Meditations/Observations

by Noella Noelophile®

“BOO!”

“EEEeeeek!  Hahaha!”

(We do have a good time with “fun” scares.  This time of year especially.)

What are the experiences in your life that scared you–but at which you wound up looking back and saying, “I am so glad  I did that!”?

I remember my first opportunity to do a one-on-one interview, while working for a radio station.

The day arrived.  The doorbell rang.  There, on the steps, stood my in-studio guest-to-be.

And no one ever wanted to run for the hills more than I did!

Opening the door, escorting him into the studio, chatting beforehand, all I could think was, “Why did I agree to this?”

That nasty, negative voice in my head wouldn’t quit.

“Who do you think you are, anyway?  You can’t pull this off.  You’re an introvert.  You’ll go blank.  You’ll have dead silence.  He’ll hate the experience and tell all his friends how bad it was.   You’ll shame the station…”

The clock hit top-of-hour.

On went the mic, and the red “ON AIR” light.

The guest and I began to chat.

We explored his journey as a musician.  He played his guitar, live.  We promoted his upcoming concerts.

Before we knew it, the hour was up.

The guest did, indeed, say he would tell all his friends–to listen to the recording when it was rebroadcast!

And all I could think was, “When can I do this again?”

(For the record, numerous public speakers and broadcasters describe themselves as “introverts”.   Being an introvert isn’t an obstacle–and could even be a plus, because introverts tend to research and examine a project to be sure it will work well!)

Now, what have been the “fun-scary” experiences in your life?

I’ll share with you quickly that I’ve just had another one.

This past spring, a friend challenged me to create an online course.

I’ve just released it–and it’s about storytelling.  Specifically, it’s about telling scary stories.

Because I love Halloween, due to its being a special anniversary, as covered in a previous post.

 

And yes, launching an online course is something new.  And as such, a scary experience.  (What if no one likes it?  What if it’s too simplistic?   What if it comes across as a seventh-grade English lecture, i.e., boring?)

But–it’s also an adventure.  One I’m glad I tried, even before I know if it succeeds or not.

Should you wish to see what it is, this is the link.

Meanwhile, Happy Halloween 2024!  And may the new experiences that “scare” you, wind up being some of the best of your life.

 

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by Noella Noelophile®

“He’ll probably never be a ‘cuddly’ cat.”

That’s what the vet said, just over a year ago, about the new feral feline we’d just adopted.

We’d had an interesting time getting him into a cat carrier, to bring him in.  Cat-handler gloves and an episode of growling and striking out, like a snake with claws, were included in the adventure.

“Serenade”, as mentioned in last year’s post, is a pure-black, long-haired kitty.

He’s also an animal whose demeanor has done a complete about-face, since he’s been with us.

For the first few months, whenever we came into his room to feed him, he’d hide.   If he were feeling especially social, he’d respond to an inquiry of, “Serenade?” with a hiss.

Gradually, he began to come out and eat when we were there–keeping a watchful eye out for any false moves.

A sudden move of any kind, a few steps towards him or anything new, and…

“HISSSSS!”

Then, suddenly, things began to change.

I came into his room one evening, and was talking to the bookcase.  (No, I do not normally communicate with furniture–but that was his hiding place of choice.)

Then, all at once, from behind me, came…

“Meow.”

And there he was, in the window, looking at me.   As though to say, “Lady, will you get with the program?  I’m over here now!”

Things progressed from there.

Serenade began to allow me to sit nearby as he ate–but not to look at him directly.   A helpful online article, about feral cats and bringing one in, had warned that they find direct eye contact a threat.

Consequently, every time he’d look up from his bowl, I’d look away quickly.

And blink my eyes slowly if our eyes met–as a blink, vets say, communicates friendship to a cat.

Serenade seemed to get the message.   And he had a surprise communication of his own.

One evening in December, he brushed his back against the bookcase, full-length, like an affectionate cat rubbing against someone’s legs.

Then, he took it further.

Flopping down on the rug, he began to roll back and forth, exposing his belly.

Could our “feral” cat actually be beginning to communicate, “I think I can trust you”?

The rolling and belly-exposing became a regular behavior.   He would also come up and do a full-body brush against me.

But he wasn’t sure what petting was, and would look startled, back away or hiss.   A few steps too close to him, or a behavior he hadn’t seen before, and “hissss!” was still his go-to communication.

Gradually, those responses began to disappear.

The day came when my husband, who didn’t realize he couldn’t pet Serenade, reached over and petted his head.

To my amazement, our “fierce” cat began purring.   Within days, if he were petted and we stopped, he’d reach out a paw–ever so gently, with sheathed claws–and tap to be petted again.

Today, Serenade is curled up in the middle of the bed.   He will come right over for cat treats (which he’ll eat out of our hands), meow softly when he sees my husband or me, and is easily one of the most affectionate animals we’ve ever had.  Besides tapping with his paw for petting, he’ll come up and give “cat kisses”–touching his nose to my chin and leaning against me.

“Fierce, feral cat”, right?

Happy Black Cat Awareness Month.  We’re aware that our special black kitty understands the power of being loved.

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by Noella Noelophile®

 

My mother had a great sense of humor, and an appreciation of beauty and magic.

Which is all the more admirable, considering that, in her life, circumstances often were anything but humorous, beautiful or magical.

As a teenager during the Depression, she desperately wanted to go to college and become a teacher.

However, she was the third of four children.  While my grnndfather was one of the few men in the community who had a job, the funds just weren’t there.

Instead, she ultimately trained as a secretary.   I can remember her, at our old Royal manual typewriter, typing a letter for my father.  Lightning-fast and accurate, she could have fooled anyone into thinking she’d found her calling.  With the resilience and determination of her generation, she made the best of the situation.

She’d often come up with whimsical turns of phrase in everyday life.   When she was headed out to run errands, for example, she’d say, “I guess I’d better get on my horse.”  And one day when she was trying to leave the house quickly, only to have a button fly off her coat and her nylons snag, she exclaimed, in exasperation, “More hurry, less speed!”

Mom was quick to spot beauty: in the ocean waves under the moon, a robin in the front yard on a spring morning, or a natural arch of green trees during a vacation in the Pocono Mountains.   “The Green Cathedral” was what she dubbed one such formation–and it did, indeed, look like the archway to a church entrance!

One of her best gifts, though, was sharing the magic of creativity.

A ninety-nine-cent box of dime store Christmas ornaments (back when there were dime stores!) turned a corner of our living room into a magical glade.   Her books, from the years before she was married, sat in the bookcase in my grandmother’s house, to be read and shared when we’d visit.   And she’d always encourage any type of artistic work.  Our bus trips to “the city” invariably included a stop at the yarn and craft shop, which carried then-exotic supplies such as star sequins, beads and angora wool.

A talented crocheter and knitter, she herself was always making something for our church bazaar.

“See?” she’d ask, holding up a lacy, scallop-shell-patterned baby sweater.

Her humor came through in numerous, unexpected ways.  Throughout my growing-up years, as a not-entirely-angelic and often rebellious child, she’d say, “You’re not 21 yet.  Don’t tell me what you will and won’t do!”

Then, on my 21st birthday, as I bathed, she walked into the bathroom.   “Did you wash behind your ears?”

We shared a laugh–and one of our classic “silly” moments.   Silly things made us laugh and we were always close–a gift I have come to value more and more over time.   There wasn’t a day in my life that I didn’t know I was loved and supported in my goals.

Happy Mother’s Day, Mom.  Thank you for all your gifts.  I miss you.

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by Noella Noelophile®

What are the loves of your life?

Notice, I said, “what”, not “who”.  “Who” is really none of my business.

But, what do you love very most in life?  Places, profession, pastimes, music, films, otherwise?

That seems like a fun area of which to think, today.  What are your passions?

Here are just a few of mine.

The “where”

When we talk about “places”, the first one with which I’ve fallen in love, in my life, is Ocean City, New Jersey.

My family spent two weeks there every August.

For a kid coming from the concrete of New York City, it was a wonderland.

The Atlantic swirled to shore against the background of sea gulls’ cries.  Salt air smelled wonderful.  Sun on our backs and the wooden boardwalk under our feet felt wonderful.  Sixties rock music provided a soundtrack as the staff of then-Mack and Manco’s kneaded pizza dough and baked fresh pies for customers lined up at their counter.

At night, the boardwalk came alive with lights, sounds and festivity.

Wooden horses and chariots whirled on the Gillian’s Fun Deck carousel.  A clanging bell warned all aboard to tighten their leather belts and hang on–another revolution was about to begin!

Just down the boardwalk, gold lights gleamed from the mirror maze.   Scents of popcorn and spun sugar filled the air.  Local musicians like Tom Perkins (who also owned the gift shop, Tom Perkins’ Sea Shanty) showcased their talents in evening concerts at the Music Pier.   Small shops (one of my favorites was Drift In and Sea) displayed stained-glass ornaments, costume jewelry, candles and glassware.

And over the years, there was a rite of passage.

As the sun rose, bicyclists were allowed on the boardwalk.  And as a teenager, I could actually get up and go out bike riding alone, watching the sky light up with the colors of an Atlantic sunrise.

Heady times.   While I’d later fall madly in love with the San Francisco of the 1970s, Ocean City, New Jersey, remains my first love in the “place” category.

Where do YOU most love to be?

The “what”

The “what” of passions, for me, include cats, books, broadcasting and crafting.

For time’s sake, let’s just look at crafting.

My mom was always knitting or crocheting.  We had a marvelous yarn store near where we lived.  They even had (then-rare) craft supplies, such as beads and sequins!

I loved to make things, and see what others have made.  Still do.

Christmas crafting was a year-round endeavor.   My mother always bought needlework magazines with craft ideas.   Felt crafting became my medium.

As a teen, I’d hurry down to our basement, after dinner, and get busy with scissors, glue and sequins.

To this day, we still have a drawer full of the sequinned, felted small ornaments from back when.   And I’ll always recall my first craft show–at the Newark YWCA in Delaware.

A group of local sculptors, who called themselves The Chiselers, came in together and made a huge fuss over my ornaments.   They must have bought about seventy-five dollars’ worth of them–which was an absolute blast and left me feeling like I had arrived, as an artist!

A decade later, I would fall madly in love with broadcasting.  After all, audio production is, simply, crafting–but with sound, rather than sequins.   Handcrafts, back then, laid the foundation for my profession.

What do YOU most love to do–and where are some of the fun places these passions have taken you?

The “taste” of love–and friendship

A final thought: what does love taste like?

The foods I love: Italian pasta (no surprise, right?); fresh strawberries; good coffee; and mint-chip ice cream.

In our small town, in the Sixties, the latter was exotic.

The local sweet shop featured three ice cream flavors: chocolate, vanilla and strawberry.

It’s interesting to think how many fewer choices we had back then.  Today, if we buy toothpaste, twenty varieties appear to be available!

But one of my all-time favorite people in our small town was our former scout leader, “Mrs. K.”   Today, she would be a CEO at the very least.

Mrs. K. had a doctorate from her alma mater and was a leader in every way.  She was calm, diplomatic and could manage projects with ease.

The small-town world of the Sixties, since she was married with three children, really didn’t offer her much, in the way of professional opportunities.  She used her talents by organizing church events, and leading a number of women’s groups.

She also, somehow, found time to help neighbors with rides to the store, drove the local children to school and took teenagers on weekend trips with her teenage daughter.

On one of those excursions, Mrs. K. suggested we stop for ice cream.

Stopping at a stand on the way to our destination, she said, “I’m going to get chocolate chip!”

Chocolate-chip ice cream?  That was a completely new concept for me!

Coming up to the stand, we saw all the featured flavors, including chocolate mint…

…and so began a new “love” in my life.

Mint chocolate ice cream will always remind me of kind, professional Mrs. K.–a role model, a leader in her time, and an amazing friend.

Now–what do you love to eat?  And what are the great memories with which you associate these favorites?

A very Happy Valentine’s Day to you and yours!  May it be filled with everything you love.

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by Noella Noelophile®

The ball drops in Times Square.  People cheer, sing and sway.

Rose Parade® floats roll in Pasadena.   Equestrians high-step.   Bands showcase their best talents.

And all of us turn a new page, mentally, in our lives.  It’s 2024!

What are your goals and dreams for the New Year?

As we keep the glow of Christmas going, the world has never needed light and festivity more than it does today.

This started out to be a post about where you can still see and experience those.

Like Solvang Julefest, for example, which continues with their daily light and music show and hidden nisser (gnomes) through next Saturday, Twelfth Night, January 6th.

Or L.A. Zoo Lights, whose “Animals Aglow” spectacular, with its new “Winter Wildlands” feature, continues through next Sunday, January 7th.

Or perhaps Winter Fest OC, where visitors can ice tube, ice skate and enjoy some breathtaking light displays (not to mention the resident yeti!), also through next Sunday, January 7th.

But now that I’ve mentioned those, a quick browse through social media brought home something important.

The power of our words.

One person, on social media today, mentioned how much good wishes would mean to them.   Another thanked those who have used words of encouragement while navigating some turbulent times.

And I recalled a class I took, a couple of years ago.

I just couldn’t seem to master the new technology, although the subject–Unity game design–was one that completely captivated me.

On a Zoom call with the teacher for extra help, I was ready to hear, “It’s time to give up.   This is just not for you.”

Except–that’s not what he said.

In the middle of a step-by-step demo of the process that had me baffled, he stopped.

“I want to commend you.  You’re one of the better students.”

Huh?!?

You guessed it.  I was never going to drop the class, after that!

And yes, the process that had had me baffled, finally began to make sense.

Two short sentences changed my whole perspective.

What are the words that have shaped your life, in positive ways?  What are the words you’ve used, that have done that in others’ lives?

And how do we use them together, as  a source of light, as all of us go forward into 2024?

Happy New Year!  May your 2024 be filled with light, festivity and a chance to uplift and encourage others, through your words and creative gifts.

 

 

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by Noella Noelophile®

“What’s your all-time-favorite Christmas memory?”

That’s a question I always like to ask.

This Christmas morning, I’ll try to answer it.

Christmases at my Grandmother Todd’s house come to mind immediately,

Christmas mornings started with a breakfast on which all the adults insisted, before the tree (and which seemed interminable!).   Looking out the kitchen window, we’d see a beautiful and wintry sight.

Fresh snow often covered my grandmom’s big backyard, her tall pine tree and the holly tree from which we’d gathered leaves for the front-door wreath.

The local radio station played Christmas music all day (which was rare back then!) and the conversation was all about catching up on neighbors’ and friends’ recent activities.

Then–finally!  It was time to go see the tree in the living room.

Decked out with the old-time 1950s huge lights no one dared leave on for long, it was a magical sight.

 

At the top was a silver-tinsel star, with a blue light in the center, that my mom remembered from her childhood.

The “Santa” gifts, when I was small, were always unwrapped and displayed under the tree with the wrapped packages.

Then it was time to open presents.  The mysterious, tantalizing shapes that had been sitting under the tree for the past week revealed themselves, as sweaters, scarf sets, aftershave for my dad (do you remember $1 aftershave that was the perfect gift for kids to buy male relatives?), costume jewelry and books.

“Let’s wrap them up and do it all over again!” my mother would joke, after the last gift was opened.

And she’d make that joke just before disappearing into the kitchen, along with my grandmother.   Company was coming!

Our big family Christmas dinners happened early in the day, with aunts, uncles, cousins and family friends around the big dining-room table with its lacy tablecloth.  Roast turkey, marshmallow yams, bacon-flavored stringbeans and fluffy rolls were passed around.   And everyone was going to be too full, in just a few minutes, to even think about the pumpkin and mince pies waiting in the pantry.

Which was fine, because no one wanted to leave anyway–and we didn’t want anyone to.

Afternoons were visiting time, in my grandmother’s parlor.

Out came the cameras.  “Let me get a picture!”  Thankfully, some of those came out (it was the Sixties–no one knew, until we took the film to the drugstore a week later, how they looked!).

Grandmother would pass around plates of homemade fudge, stuffed dates and peanut-butter fondant candy.  Plates of cookies and hard candy sat on the coffee table.  I especially remember the bowl of mixed nuts, with a small hammer for cracking.  (Hazelnuts were great–Brazil nuts almost impossible to crack!)

The day would seem to go by on wings.

A couple of hours later, Grandmother would cut the pies and put the coffee on.  We’d all have our Christmas dessert, and relatives would begin saying, “Well, guess we’d better get going.”   (Christmas night was my least favorite time of the year–because it was the furthest point from the next Christmas!)

Goodbyes were said, in a flurry of kisses and hugs.

It’s decades later, and thousands of miles away from those long-ago Christmases.   But Christmas was special then, is special now, and I treasure those memories.

What memories are you creating, for Christmas 2023?

Merry Christmas.

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by Noella Noelophile®

“Thank you”.   How inadequate that phrase sounds, in honoring our veterans.

Going about my workdays in a country with freedom of speech, freedom of the press and the ability to start from nothing and realize our dreams, this is something I all-too-frequently take for granted.

But to all our veterans and active members of the military, and their families–thank you.

Now, rather than spend any more time on inadequacies–why don’t I list some of the veteran and military discounts available, this Christmas season, for special events.

Great Dickens Christmas Fair – Daly City.

Active military personnel and three family members receive free admission the first two weekends of the Dickens Fair.  Dates are November 18, 19, 24, 25, and 26th.  Photo I.D. is required at Will Call.

Aerospace Museum of California – Sacramento.

Veterans receive a discounted admission rate of $10 (general admission starts at $15), while active service members receive free admission with military ID.

Dates to keep in mind for the Christmas season: November 24th, 10 am, for their “Santa at the Airpark” event; and Saturday, December 16th, 10 am, for their “Gingerbread Mars Rover” event with host Amelia Bearhart.     (The latter is part of their “DeSTEMber” program, about which I’m looking forward to receiving, and sharing, more information!)

Downtown Sacramento Ice Rink – Sacramento.

The rink is open for gliding, Tuesdays through Sundays from now through January 15th, 2024.  Their website says, “FREE for veterans and active duty with military ID”, which I’m currently checking to make sure they mean every day–not just Veterans Day.

And UPDATE–The Ice Rink has just messaged me to verify that, YES, veterans and active-duty military members skate free, all season long, with their military ID!

L.A. Zoo Lights (November 17, 2023 – January 7, 2024)

A military discount is available, according to their FAQ page.   Members of the military must present valid ID at the Zoo’s box office at the time of ticket purchase.

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by Noella Noelophile®

Family Christmases were the best.

Every December, we would travel from our home in New York to my grandmother’s in Wilmington, Delaware.   Taking the train from New York’s Penn Station started the adventure.

The train would wend its way through what was usually a very snowy landscape.  Once we pulled out of Newark, New Jersey, it felt like we were well and truly on our way.

If we traveled after dark–which was usually the case–Christmas lights showed up all  along the way.   Going through Pennsylvania, we’d always look for the giant lighted white star atop Bethlehem Steel.

“TRENTON!,” the conductor would announce.  Then, “NO-O-ORTH PHILADELPHIA!”

(It was time to start getting the bags ready.)

“PHILADELPHIA!  Philadelphia.”

(Get your coat on, we’re getting up when the train starts up again…)

“WI-I-ILMING-TONNN!  WILMINGTON!”

And off the train we went, in a flurry of suitcases.

“There they are!”

And there, indeed, on the vintage low platform of Wilmington’s Penn Station, would be the relatives come to meet us.  A series of hugs and kisses followed, a lively discussion of our travels and updates on the latest Wilmington happenings ensued as we headed to the car.

I remember driving past the rows of downtown townhouses, with the lighted life-size choirboys or tall lighted plastic candles standing on the porches.  We’d proceed up Kirkwood Highway until we turned off at my grandmother’s house.

And there she was, smiling and hugging–my Grandmother Todd.   With an extra hug for her youngest granddaughter.

We would spend Christmas week, right through New Year’s Day, with her.

I can still see the fresh snow out the side window of the upstairs bedroom, swirling around the base of the dark-green pine tree.   And feel the warmth of pre-Christmas mornings as we sat in the kitchen, having breakfast, catching up and listening to the radio.

To this day, I feel the icy temperature of Mom-Mom Todd’s pantry, where she’d stored tins of cookies, fudge and peanut-butter fondant for the big day.   The scent of pine takes me back to her backyard, decades ago, to that tall pine with its snow-covered branches.

And a certain doorbell sound will always evoke the laughter of family arriving on the big day, shedding coats, stamping snow off their boots and depositing packages under the tree and all kinds of homemade jams, side dishes and desserts in the kitchen.

As children, we just think the enchanting elements of Christmas appear by magic.

But perhaps the real magic happens when we get taller.  (Notice, I didn’t say, “grow up”.  I’m not sure I ever did!)

And that’s when we can start to make things magical.

As the year “ripens” into late October and another season of Noelophile® posts begins, what are the elements of magic you most want to create?  And are they baked, stitched, lovingly shopped for, written or otherwise?

You (and I) have about six weeks till December, to come up with an answer.

May this season be especially merry and festive, whatever your blend of magic.

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by Noella Noelophile®

Happy Easter 2023!

This time of year is full of great memories for me.

When I was growing up, “Eastertime” was always a celebration.

My family would travel from New York to spend a week with my maternal grandmother in Wilmington, Delaware.   Springtime, and Easter, will always remind me of those days.

Grandmom’s next-door neighbors had a greenhouse, with potted hyacinths, tulips and daffodils growing in profusion.  I still remember the brilliant colors and scent of the flowers.

Meanwhile, wild violets carpeted her back yard.   Robins hopped among the fresh green grass, and still-chilly spring breezes made the daffodils nod and seem to dance.

And getting ready for Easter Sunday was always a production.

We’d travel to the nearby shopping center for new shoes, purses and hats.  Usually, our new Easter clothes were already hanging up in the bedroom, ready to be worn to church.

“This isn’t about ‘see my new clothes’ or ‘see my new hat’!”, my mother was sure to say, as we were shopping.  But she still seemed to enjoy looking in the department stores (I know, that was a different world!) at the new colors and styles.

And on Easter morning, there were the baskets.   One for each person in the house, including my then-in-her-eighties grandmother.

The “bunny” had been busy.

But we couldn’t linger over those chocolate eggs, jelly beans and marshmallow chicks.  The church bells would be ringing before long.

More so than any Easter message of hope we would have heard back then, I remember the feeling of community.  Of being among people whose families had known my mother and her family for decades.  After the service, no matter how long we’d been away, people would gather to chat with us as though they’d just seen us last week.

That, plus the following week of relatives stopping in to visit and getting to spend time with my grandmother, was Easter to me.

Decades later and thousands of miles away, those memories still bring a smile.   So do wild violets, which will always remind me of my grandmother.  And so do times with the loved ones with whom we share Easter today.

A very Happy Easter, and Happy Spring, to you and yours!  May it be filled with newness and hope, just like those long-ago Easter mornings.

 

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by Noella Noelophile®

This International Women’s Day, I’m remembering all the amazing women who’ve shaped my life.

My mom comes to mind first, of course.  She was kind, talented and loving.   Her love of books and reverence for education were values that made a huge difference.  And I can still hear her saying, “I’m so proud of you!” after a recitation or other special event.

Mostly, my mother expressed her creativity through needlework.   I still have the furry mohair coat she knitted for one of my fashion dolls.  As well as the rainbow-colored afghans she liked to crochet, and her counted-cross stitch Christmas ornaments.

She also had a great sense of humor.

One Sunday morning, when I was about six or seven, I started to rise for a church hymn and slid off the pew.  Looking over during the first chorus, I saw my mom’s sides shaking with suppressed laughter.  Somehow, she still managed to sing, though!

My grandmother, who was a talented creative, was equally loving, giving–and determined.

I still remember the Christmas bread she made to take to the local minister and his wife after he’d suffered a stroke.  The loaves looked just like icy Christmas wreaths with red Maraschino cherries, and she spent all morning baking them (at that point, Grandmom was past 80!) before we walked over, in Delawarean wintry temperatures, to deliver them.

Grandmom was also a living illustration of the word “determination”.

Having received a third-grade education before having to leave school to care for her younger siblings, she vowed that all of her children would finish school.  Every one of them did.   And a matter of months before she passed away, she forced herself to ignore the pain from the cancer that would end her life–to attend her youngest grandchild’s college graduation.

Both my mother and my grandmother were incredible women.

But others come to mind as well, whom I tended to take for granted, growing up.

Memories and music

Every Wednesday, my grade school had music class with Miss Wright.

Tall, thin and exacting, she seemed to know an endless supply of musical selections–all genres.  She’d bring in records to play, and mimeographed sheets of lyrics.  The morning she played Camille Saint-Saens’ “Danse Macabre”, she told the class the story behind the composition and had us illustrate it.   The pictures we all drew of the dancing skeletons depicted in the melody had me shivering deliciously.  And to this day, I catch myself humming “The Ash Grove” or “Sweet Molly Malone”, and remember her leading us through the verses.

While I never knew Miss Wright’s story, others said she lived with her father on the outskirts of our small town, and was very generous with candy at Halloween.  I can only guess that she must have attended a music conservatory and had dreams of performing professionally–which may not have been overly attainable in the 1960s.

Spotlight on the fifth grade

There was also the best teacher I had in grade school: our fifth-grade teacher, Mrs. Segal.

Mrs. Segal loved storytelling and poetry.

She would read poems to the class, and share folk stories.  After the final sentence, she would raise her head from the book and smile at the class, as if to say, “That’s it; did you like it?”

And perhaps her most ambitious achievement was our class play.

For weeks beforehand, she had told us the stories of several Shakespearean plays.  We all became familiar with King Lear and his daughters, Puck’s foibles and the means by which Katherine the “shrew”, was “tamed”.

Then one day, she brought in mimeographed scripts: A Midsummer Night’s Dream.

The entire class was cast.   We rehearsed for weeks, performing for parents just before school let out for the summer.

As fifth-graders, all of us took it very matter-of-factly.  OK, we were doing a play.

In retrospect, how much work that must have been for Mrs. Segal.

Simplifying Shakespeare’s language for fifth-grade readers’ comprehension, making sure everyone knew their lines, all the rehearsals, getting scenery (as I remember, very minimal–I think it was a painted sheet!) and costumes.  (I can still see our “Demetrius” and “Lysander” with their artificial-ivy “wreaths” on their heads and their white-sheet “togas”.)

Yet no one ever heard her complain–and she seemed to enjoy the process of putting a show together.

The play was a hit–and a lasting gift, in terms of getting us familiar with the Bard.

Years later, in a college Shakespeare course, one of the first plays we read was King Lear.  “Oh, that’s the king who gets tricked by his two selfish daughters, and cheats the one who really does love him out of her inheritance,” I thought.  Mrs. Segal’s work had paved the way to understanding the events behind the unfamiliar language.

Again, I don’t know her story–but as a teenager, I would read Herman Wouk’s Marjorie Morningstar and wonder if, indeed, Mrs. Segal hadn’t dreamed of a stage career.  She was certainly familiar with performing arts, and a gifted storyteller.

And, today…

Today I’m surrounded by equally-creative and talented women, sharing their gifts through media that didn’t exist in the 1960s.

A talented miniaturist showcases her latest work on Facebook.  A brilliant graphic artist posts pictures of her latest designs on Twitter.  An author who can take readers between darkness and light in a few pages takes to Instagram with a tantalizing excerpt from her latest work.

And then there are the crafts events.

Now is a great time for me to tell you that the “Craftcation” Business and Makers Conference, co-founded by gifted creative Nicole Stevenson, is happening in Ventura in mid-April.  Early bird tickets are still available for this four-day amazing event, and I keep promising myself that, once I can safely travel again, I am attending one of these in a future year!

Nicole is also one of the founders of the “Patchwork Show Modern Makers Festival”.

This is an all-handmade celebration of creativity, with live music, food trucks, and, of course, all kinds of unique creations.

Their spring and summer tour of crafts shows begins in May, in Redwood City.  Applications for vendors are currently open, and their deadline is April 10th.  Here’s the link for information.

And no International Women’s Day post on artists and artisans would be complete without Jackalope Indie Artisan Fair.

Founded by Melissa Kohout and Sara Diederich, Jackalope Arts hosts shows in four cities: Pasadena, Burbank, Denver and Minneapolis.  Their first show of the Spring 2023 season happens on April 29th and 30th, in Old Pasadena’s Central Park.  Admission is free, you’re invited, and while vendor applications are now closed, they do have a waitlist if you’d like to be considered as a vendor for this all-handmade, juried show.

(However, applications for their Burbank show, in June, are still open–just barely!  The deadline is March 10th.  Here’s the link for information.)

Now–who are some of the amazing women you’re celebrating, on this International Women’s Day?

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by Noella Noelophile®

“It goes by so quickly.”

That was a comment which a beloved family member made, as we spent time together on Christmas Day.

She’s absolutely right.

Are you still adjusting to writing “2023”, too?  As well as, maybe, acclimating to taking down the Christmas decorations?

We’re doing that gradually over here.

As we move forward into the New Year, 2023, here are some of my favorite discoveries from this past Christmas season.

A new arts resource

Prior to this past Christmas season, I didn’t know anything about San Francisco School of Needlework and Design.  But you can bet I’ll be following this fantastic nonprofit now!

They offer in-person classes, as well as online ones.  And there are all kinds of free resources–including their weekly “Stitch-In” groups and their biannual “Stitch at Home” challenge, which you still have time to enter if you like!  (But hurry–their deadline’s coming up!)

In their mission of preserving needlework arts and educating stitchers in techniques from all around the world, they also have an exciting professional program, which starts every January.  Here’s the link for more information.

A new favorite virtual Christmas activity

It’s no secret at all that I L-O-V-E the Museum of Make Believe, in Anaheim.

But on December 23rd, they really outdid themselves.

Virtual admission was free to their special show, “Winter Wonderland: A Vintage Christmas”, and it was absolutely fantastic.

“Wow, this took a lot of work!” was what we said after the ninety-minute celebration concluded.

In those ninety minutes, we had seen:

• “Santa Shorts”, short funny video clips starring Anaheim performance artist Buster Balloon as Santa (and he and his elf sidekick were hilarious!);

 

• An excellent “Nutcracker” video, courtesy of Anaheim Ballet; (they actually managed to give a new and magical perspective on the classic “Nutcracker”, which I won’t ruin by saying what it was!);

 

•  A Victorian “magic lantern” story;

• A Christmas story told with old-time paper/stick puppets;

 

• An adorable puppetry take on the classic “Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer”, from Atlanta’s Center for Puppetry Arts;

 

• A polymer-clay Christmas craft, and a session teaching guests how to make a festive winter drink that would add merriment to the life of any milkshake aficionado!

 

Knowing how much time and effort is involved in creating a simple video, I can only guess they must have started in midsummer. to produce this festive gift for attendees who tuned in from literally all over the world.

Which leads me to say: keep an eye on Museum of Make Believe for more fun and whimsical offerings as they make art accessible, and create-able, to all through imagination!  They’re currently raising funds for a permanent venue and I’ll love to see it when this COVID mess is through!

A new favorite Christmas story

Maybe you knew that Anne of Green Gables author Lucy Maud Montgomery had written a classic Christmas story.

But I certainly didn’t!

It’s nice to find a Christmas story like the ones I grew up with, where family, love and miracles take center stage.   Christmas at Red Butte is such a story.

Set in the California Gold Rush era, the tale follows a family that’s fallen on hard times.  Sixteen-year-old Theodora has come to live with her aunt, uncle and cousins following her mother’s passing.  But after her uncle’s death, Theodora and her aunt make every possible sacrifice to make ends meet for her three young cousins.

And now, Christmas is coming.   And as ten-year-old Jimmy assures his younger siblings on Christmas Eve, “Of course”, Santa is too.

Which, given the family’s circumstances, leaves Theodora with a dilemma.

How she deals with this challenge, and the unexpected turn of events that follows, made for a great classic Christmas read.  And this is just one of the “12 Classic Christmas Tales” in the anthology by that name, compiled by V. E. Lane.  It’s well worth checking out of your local library.

And–those were three of my favorite experiences, to treasure from Christmas 2022!

As we go forward, what treasures do you have in your heart from this past Christmas season–and what are you looking forward to creating for Christmas in the future?

 

 

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by Noella Noelophile®

What does your Christmas taste like?  Sound like?  Smell like?

It’s interesting how sense memories take us back to other times and other Christmases.

The scent of pine. a faint tang of wood smoke and perhaps a waft of bayberry mean “Christmas” to me.

The latter will always take me back to a funny little store in the small New York town where I grew up.

We had a candle factory, of all things, about six blocks from our apartment.

And completely unexpectedly, there was an enchanting small room–barely bigger than my first apartment’s kitchen (and that was tiny!), which served as a shop for the general public.

One favorite purchase, from there, was a green glass votive with “Merry Christmas” written on it in silver.  (We still have that today–decades later.)

The sounds

Carols, conversation and laughter come to mind, in the “audio” department.  But for me, the sound of a busy train station is “Christmas”.

Every Christmas, my family traveled from our home in Queens to my grandmother’s house in Wilmington, Delaware, to spend Christmas.  We’d arrive at bustling Penn Station, with travelers hurrying for their trains, loudspeaker announcements of arrivals and departures, and festive Christmas music throughout the station.

During the trip, of course, there was the “rail rhythm” that seemed to provide a background for any song–Christmas or otherwise–that we could hum to pass the time.   The sounds merged with the sights we’d always look to see–Christmas lights through the small town, a lighted Christmas star on the Bethlehem Steel plant and the announcement that “TRENTON MAKES, THE WORLD TAKES” as the train reached that halfway point.

Can’t help but remember, too, the year the train got stuck in heavy snow.

We’d just left Newark, New Jersey, and were traveling south when the train stopped abruptly.  And stayed there, as the snow fell, for at least forty-five minutes.

Fast-forwarding to 2022, and keeping a good thought for the travelers headed for Christmas celebrations in a historic winter storm.   That long-ago train stall was small, by comparison.   But none of the passengers knew if we’d be arriving at our Christmas destinations or not, at that point.

We finally began moving again, and no one ever explained what had caused the delay.  But it was good to be on our way and headed for Christmas.

Trains are a lifelong love for me now, and will always be as much a part of my favorite Christmas memories as that conductor calling, “Wiiilllmington!”

(Want a fun Christmas read, chock-full of cool facts about Amtrak?   One of only two romances I’ve ever recommended in my book reviews is David Baldacci’s The Christmas Train.)

The taste of Christmas

The first taste that comes to mind?  My grandmother’s peanut-butter fudge.

Of course, there are dozens of others.   But for some reason–despite the amazing meringues and stuffed dates that were always a part of our Christmas at her house–this comes to mind first.

And invariably, that sense memory is intertwined with–cold.

Grandmom kept all her cookies, homemade candy and other goodies in her pantry.   If a child were to sneak in there during the afternoon to surreptitiously secure a couple of pieces of fudge or some tollhouse cookies (speaking purely theoretically, of course!), it was c-o-l-d in there!  (But worth it!)

Decades later, a taste of Christmas in our house is gingerbread.  And a quick tip that you may have known but we discovered by accident?  Adding half the amount of molasses called for (i.e. half a cup, not a cup) results in more of a “bread”-type cake that’s lightly sweet and is our preference.  Not that anyone’s ever declined the standard variety, baked in a Christmastime mold and sticky sweet!

Now–what are the scents, sounds and tastes that will become part of your favorite memories of Christmas, 2022?

Merry Christmas!  May it be absolutely magical.

 

 

 

 

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by Noella Noelophile®

“What are you thankful for?”

That’s a fairly common question we ask one another–and ourselves–this time of year.

Answers are pretty obvious.  The people we love most.  (What a blessing to look into the face of someone you love, and see that love beaming back at you.)   Good health.  The ability to do the creative work we enjoy.

I’m also hugely thankful for the times in which we live.

Our updated times

Even with a pandemic raging, connecting with people worldwide is possible today, through technology.  Sharing interests online and getting to connect, is amazing.   So is getting to “go” places which our budget would preclude–but which a simple log-in permits.

And so is getting to do lifelong learning.

When I was small, people pretty much looked at school as a period of twelve years.  Followed by college, if you were lucky.

After that, you were expected to get a job and be loyal.  As in, stay there for decades.  And supposedly, “you couldn’t teach an old dog new tricks”.

The scary part, of course, was that times change, and people change.  What if you chose something that, after a certain amount of time, you might realize wasn’t right for you?  Then–you’d be stuck.

That’s another reason I’m thankful today.

The electronic road

While the downside of computers includes privacy concerns, 11 pm contacts from employers and the omnipresent technical issues (including the crash I had just as I started writing this!), the upside includes new opportunities.   Many of the obstacles of the past are now history.

Would you like to create media?  The barrier of expensive film cameras or recording devices is gone.   Or the cost of editors and studios, with the free software available now.

Ready to sell your creative work?   Online marketplaces are available.

Writing a book or otherwise sharing your message?  Self-publishing and blogging is entirely doable, as are channels such as YouTube and TikTok.

Gone are the “gatekeepers” to whom you had to apply, in the past.  And whose “yes” could build a future, but whose “no” could stop your dreams cold.

And finally, there’s the “sea change” in the education field.

With our world evolving so rapidly, you’ll rarely hear anyone claim they can’t learn something new.  Free tutorials on YouTube, VR development classes on Unity Learn and online workshops–often free–are just three ways of pursuing interests.

Plus, no reasonable employer today expects–for better or for worse–a decades-long commitment.   Two years at one position appears to be a “long” time for younger workers.

Thank goodness for all the changes.   And for a world that could potentially become a better one.

So, as we celebrate Thanksgiving 2022 in our evolving world, may you have a very happy and healthy holiday, with those you love most.

Now–what are you thankful for?

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by Noella Noelophile®

Happy Halloween!  Thought I’d share a fun moment that happened recently.

In our house, the ones in charge are four-legged–and speak “meow”.  (That is an official language, isn’t it?)

Well, our benevolent feline residents, who graciously accept our devotion as their due, have let us know that cat treats are mandatory.  (“Meowndatory”, perhaps.)

And one evening last week, I was moving some items into the bedroom.

As usual, when you try to hurry, you’re going to upset something.

What hit the deck?  A full container of cat treats, within view of our smallest kitty, “Snuggles”.

It was the equivalent of spilling chocolate-covered marshmallows near a four-year-old.

My husband and I hurried to pick up the treats, while Snuggles downed as many as she could.   We don’t know how many she ate.

Most importantly, our sweet kitty had no ill effects.   We don’t think she even had a stomachache–unlike the aforementioned four-year-old might have had!

But how was that for the ultimate feline fantasy come true?  We’re convinced she purred louder that evening.

A very Happy Halloween to you and yours!  And may the treats overflow in your life.

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by Noella Noelophile®

Wild violets always remind me of my maternal grandmother.

So do a lot of other special things.

Peanut-butter fudge and stuffed dates at Christmastime.   Patchwork quilts.   Backyard picnics.   Church bells.  (“I love to hear the sound of a church bell ringing,” she used to say.)   Even the whistle of a freight train.

The latter because my family always visited my grandmother, during the holidays and summers of my growing-up years.  Tucked up in bed at night during these visits, I’d hear distant train whistles.   My grandfather had worked on the old Baltimore and Ohio line, as a maintenance man.  Throughout my childhood, freight trains still ran on the outskirts of Wilmington, Delaware.

I can only imagine the life my grandmother must have had, as a married woman raising five children during the Depression.  My grandfather had one of the few jobs around.  How I wish I’d asked her to tell me more stories of that time.

What I do remember, though, is that she was a lady.   With a very kind heart.

She had grown up as one of thirteen children, in Elk Mills, Maryland.  In her day, people considered educating girls a “waste of time”.  Grandmom received only a third-grade education–after which she had to stay at home and help raise her younger siblings.  Years later, she would sit down to study with her own children, as they did their “lessons” after school.

Grandmom was sharp as a tack.  She loved to hear people read aloud.  She’d write a weekly letter to my mother, filled with news of the community.   And there was very little she couldn’t do, with needle arts–or creative arts in general.

Sharing her gifts

Many times, she’d sew clothing for a new baby in the community.   She made a patchwork quilt for each of her four grandchildren.  My mother used to say that Grandmom could travel into Philadelphia, see a dress she liked in a department-store window, then come home and make herself that exact dress, from scratch.

Whenever we came to visit, her special sponge cake was waiting.   Candies and cookies awaited company in the pantry.  Sunday dinners were a from-scratch affair with fresh vegetables and roasted chicken.

What I remember best, though, is her Christmas bread.

The Christmas I was thirteen, Grandmom made loaves of sweet bread in the shape of a wreath.  Then, she iced them with white icing, cherries and almond slivers.   We delivered them to neighbors that afternoon.

I still remember that her Christmas-wreath bread would have looked right at home in a bakery’s front window.

Ninety pounds of determination

Never a large woman, Grandmom nevertheless had an iron will.   She was a faithful churchgoer: never, to my recollection, missing a Sunday.   Even when health issues  began draining her energy, she would get up and dress, then carefully lie down across her bed until her ride came, to the church.

And she set great store by “looking nice”.

“Make yourself neat,” she counseled one grandchild with an upcoming job interview.  “Have your hair and nails neatly groomed”.

Practicing what she preached, she herself took particular care with her appearance.   Every afternoon, she would go into her bedroom, comb her hair and freshen her face powder and perfume–exactly as she had done when my grandfather was alive and she was expecting him home from work.

Beauty beyond the mirror

Behavior, though, was the other side of the coin.

“Pretty is as pretty does,” she said once, in response to a grandchild’s question, “Am I pretty?”

Grandmom would live that axiom, as well.

My mother liked to tell the story of baking days during her childhood.  The neighborhood children would all come by after school, for a slice of Grandmom’s freshly-baked bread with butter and sugar.  “Let’s go to Auntie’s for a piece of bread,” was a common refrain.

One of my favorite stories, though, illustrated her closeness with my grandfather.

Both active members of their church, my grandparents knew when people had come across hard times.  One particular instance involved a man in their community who had lost his job.

“Your grandfather and I talked about whether we could lend him the money he needed, and decided we could,” Grandmom said.

Now, she had married my grandfather in 1906–at a time when women did not yet have the right to vote.   They would be married for fifty-one years.   But even as a child, not knowing the thinking of their times, their life together as equal partners–in love and kindness–always impressed me.

Remembering with loveI was blessed to have my grandmother in my life until I was in my twenties.   She passed at the age of ninety-two, and will always be a beloved figure in my memory.

I’ve inherited the small jelly glass in which she used to put the wild violets I’d pick from her backyard, when we came for an Easter visit.  More often than not, it sits in our window, just as it used to sit in hers, with the small, cheery purple wildflowers in it–from OUR backyard.   When we first saw our home, those heart-shaped leaves (not all that common in Southern California!) signaled to me: “This is it!”

Happy Mother’s Day, Grandmom.  Thank you for being you.

 

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by Noella Noelophile®

Thanksgiving, 2021, looks very different from our festive 2019 celebration.

We just returned from getting our COVID-19 booster shots. We give thanks that we have these medical advances–and pray that poorer countries may receive, and benefit from, the vaccine and boosters.

No guests are coming this year. We give thanks that we can connect with friends and family virtually, and remind them of their importance to us through email, texts and Zoom.

We have chosen to isolate out of an abundance of caution, due to the vulnerability of several older family members. We give thsnks for the precautions which are being taken at the special events we normally attend, to keep everyone safe. And we’re thankful for virtual live streams, so we don’t have to miss all the fun!

Thanksgiving dinner will not be especially elaborate for us, this year. We give thanks, both for wonderful memories of past gatherings with family and friends, and for the special but simple recipes we’ve been preparing, of favorite foods that evoke those memories. And we pray for those less fortunate, as well as for the amazing community organizations and volunteers who are working to help them change their lives.

And on a lighter note–we also have a new feline in our household this year. We’re thankful for sweet Mollie cat–even if she does perform her “Feed Me Serenade” at five in the morning!

Now–what are you most thankful for?

Happy Thanksgiving, and may it be a healthy and safe one for you and yours.

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by Noella Noelophile®

Leadership involves making the tough, unpopular decisions.   Even when that’s the last thing in the world you want to do.

Simone Biles is a leader.  Whether or not she ever wins another gold medal.

With the rest of the world, I watched her leave the competition area on Tuesday.   Her heart had to be breaking.   But she made the right decision.

Now, I am spectacularly un-athletic.   Gym class was my nemesis in school.  I was consistently the last kid chosen, for any team.

The closest thing I’ve ever done to gymnastics, occurred quite accidentally in our kitchen.  I stepped on a blackberry and did a slide, ending in a half-split, that might have had an ice-skating coach cringing.  (I’m still amazed that I didn’t break anything!)

Consequently, I know nothing about the pressures involved in competing in the Olympics.  But I do know, as do you, what it is to experience the pressure of others’ expectations.

It would have been all-too-easy for Simone to say, “I’m here now.   People are depending on me.  The show must go on.”

And she could have wound up with a severe injury.   The term “lost in the air” was new to me, with these Olympics.  But apparently, according to this morning’s news reports, it’s a common occurrence with gymnasts.

Shockingly, Simone is beginning to encounter “trolls” online, after her decision.   Often, those offering “expert” criticism on her choices, have never been in her situation.

Personally, I loved that she came back and cheered on her teammates.   And the hugs she gave the winning Russian team members.  Not to mention her humility when she told her teammates, “If you need anything, I’ll get it.”

In a time when we see all-too-many athletes cry, sulk or take out their temperament on others, she shines like the refreshing star she’ll always be.

A leader serves, listens and empathizes.   And creates other leaders.

Take care of yourself, Simone.  Get healthy and strong mentally, and keep right on inspiring for many long, happy years.

Gold medals can tarnish.

The far-reaching effects of your bravery and maturity never will.

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by Noella Noelophile®

Summer.  Say the word and it conjures up all kinds of images.

Frosted pitchers of iced tea.   Fireflies blinking at sunset.  County fair crowds cheering and laughing.

A favorite verse of a top-forty song hanging in the air, as a car drives by with all its windows down.   Shimmering fireworks across a black-velvet sky.  Walking into a blessedly-air-conditioned train car after waiting on a sun-drenched platform.

A favorite, for me?  The “clang” of the old merry-go-round’s bell at Gillian’s Fun Deck in Ocean City, New Jersey.

From the time I was very small, my family would spend two weeks there during summer.  To this day, a certain song from the 1960s takes me back to the vintage Spillman carousel.

A summertime spin

Stepping aboard the wooden platform, you quickly chose a mount.  A neighing chestnut?  A coal-black stallion?   A white horse with a flowing mane?  Or, perhaps, the chariot?  But you couldn’t dally.

Two “clangs” would warn:  riders,  to your steeds!

Slowly, the carousel would begin spinning.  Three abreast rose-decorated horses would begin moving up and down.  Current songs would lilt into the air as the carousel spun in the summer night.

One revolution showed you the Tilt-A-Whirl , on the upper deck you could access by a concrete ramp.   The giant Ferris wheel outlined a six-pointed star in white lights against the darkening sky.  A red-and-blue neon clown invited visitors to join in the fun.

And midway through the ride, came the excitement.

One of the young men operating the carousel (in the ’60s, they were all young men!) would appear just outside the carousel, with a small basket.  Pulling a wooden boom arm towards him, he’d load a series of brass rings its slot.

Then, he’d swing the arm, on its hinges, just within reach of the riders on the outer horses.

And those riders would lean as far as their safety belts would allow,  grabbing at those brass rings for a chance at a free ride.

I never did catch one, but to this day, I remember the fun of trying!  And I can still see the printed yellow tickets that granted you a second turn.

And afterwards

After the carousel rides, we would stroll the boardwalk.

Skee ball arcades beckoned.   A mirror maze, with its amber-lighted confusion, lit up the night.  Scents of popcorn and spun sugar filled the air.

And beyond the guard rails were spectacular views of the Atlantic, restlessly forming its white-topped waves and hurling them to the shore.

Browsing the boardwalk shops was always fun.

The Fifth Avenue Jewelry Store would tempt everyone with windows the length of its outer walls.   And in those were costume jewelry from all over the world, including bone-china English flower pins that were my mother’s favorite.

Further along the boardwalk was Shriver’s Salt Water Taffy, with its taffy-pulling machine and candies of all kinds in the showcase.   They actually had a second boardwalk store, where we’d buy my grandmother’s favorite molasses paddles and mint braid to bring back to her.

Those, along with boardwalk pizza, are the indelible “taste of summer” in my memory.

Tom Perkins’ Sea Shanty, Drift In and Sea, and a needlework shop (I can’t remember the name, but they were a favorite haven the summer a storm system brought six straight days of rain!) were also frequent stopping places.

On those summer evenings, as we strolled the boardwalk, we could look to the west and see a familiar sight.   The city’s blue water tower, with “Ocean City, NJ” painted on it, rose in the distance.

I would always look for my first sight of that water tower when we came into town.  And, leaving, I’d watch it grow smaller and smaller in our rear window, until it was out of sight.

Ocean City, New Jersey, and the times we spent there, are among my favorite summertime memories.

Many years have passed since I took my last ride on that carousel.  Summers since then have included Fourth of July in San Francisco, concerts at the Orange County Fair and favorite craft fairs like the Patchwork Show in Santa Ana.

As we get into summer of 2021, and the world recovers from a pandemic–what will be some of your best memories?

I hope they’re full of music, fun and a chance to grab any brass ring you may see.

 

 

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by Noella Noelophile®

“Have a little pride,” my mother used to fuss.

But she wasn’t talking about vanity or hubris.

No, what Mom had in mind was presenting what you are, at your best.  She was not thrilled with sloppy clothes or messy hair.  Mismatched socks were her particular pet peeve.

Mom lived that concept.

 

Many years after her passing, my cousin, Peggy, would talk about my mom as her role model during her teen years.  Peggy said she loved to watch my mother get ready for church or her social commitments in the community.

“She always looked nice, ” Peggy commented.  “She always had her hair done and knew how to dress.”

This is so much more of an achievement, considering that my mother always struggled with her weight.

In her day, stores generally featured stylish women’s clothes in sizes eight through twelve.  Going shopping with Mom, both of us were usually appalled at the selection–or lack thereof–in larger sizes.  Huge prints and unbecoming colors were often the order of the day.

Mom managed to make the best of those limited offerings.  Somehow, she found solid colors and smaller prints that suited her.  I can still see her smiling in her aqua Sunday dress, accented with white costume jewelry and a small white hat.  On Mother’s Day, she would proudly pin her corsage to her left shoulder (“A beautiful orchid!” she’d exclaim) just before leaving for church.

For my mother, pride in presentation wasn’t limited to appearance.  Clean and proper speech was equally important.

“To whom are you writing?” she would ask, seeing a pen in motion.  Or, she’d gently tease if someone referenced “the store someone works at”, rather than, “the store at which So-and-So works”!   And swear words–or even slang words like “gosh” or “darn”–weren’t acceptable.

“There are plenty of words to express yourself, without swearing!” she’d say.

Of course, my all-time favorite story–which sums up my Mom better than any other–was the one I shared last Mother’s Day.  Mom turned in about $200 she’d found blowing around on the street, to our local bank, saying, “I think one of your depositors may have dropped this.”

At the time, that didn’t seem unusual.  That was how my mother was.  But in retrospect, it was an invaluable lesson in how to treat fellow human beings.

One other area of pride for my mother was her “handwork”.

Since her teens, Mom had been a knitter and crocheter.  She made innumerable “sacque, bonnet and booties” sets for church bazaar sales or for a new arrival in the family.   When I was small and obsessed with fashion dolls, she knitted a perfectly-fitting, very cute mohair coat.  And today, we still have a rainbow-colored afghan she crocheted.

“See?” she’d ask, holding up her latest creation.

Happy Mother’s Day, Mom.  I do take a lot of pride–in you.

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by Noella Noelophile®

“We work for days.  Then, suddenly, I look back and there’s a (completed project) behind me.”

The speaker was a young woman who’d been spending weeks on a major STEAM-based collaboration..   After long hours of seeming to plod along, she’d finally seen the results.

And her words have stuck with me ever since.

Massive projects–and getting them out of our imagination and into some form of reality–are an interesting phenomenon.  Here are the steps I’ve found helpful in the creative process.

1. The vision.

“What does success look like?” asked one team member, several years ago.  A group with which I was collaborating had just embarked on the planning stages of a special event.

What an excellent question.  We spent the next five minutes articulating the results we wanted: happy attendees, fulfillment of the event’s goals, what we wanted people to say about the event afterwards.

And it worked.  That question provided a fantastic starting point.

So, even if your “team” is looking back at you from the mirror–what does success look like, on the project which you’d really like to accomplish?

Writing it down, and checking back on it periodically, with dates by which you want to accomplish pieces of that goal, can work really well.

2. The steps.

Starting is the big deal.   A starting point can seem a thousand miles away from where you want to end up.   The trick is to “Swiss cheese” the project–poke away at a little of it, as often as possible.

I’ve just given a workshop I really wanted to create.  Getting myself to start, though?  Do the words “pulling teeth” mean anything to you?

What I did do, was begin planning slides in January for the event that just happened this week.  There were ten slides to include, and a handout to give attendees.  And with that kind of lead time, one or two slides a day, or writing two paragraphs, then leaving it and returning, worked well.

And–does this happen to you too?  As the deadline approached, suddenly it was, “Gasp!  I have to get this done!  It’s happening in two more weeks!”

Somehow, magically, it all came together.  Currently, I am looking back–and there’s a workshop behind me.

3. Reality.

Ideally, you’d love to sail into the work and wind up with –perfection.  One take, and your classic performance is the stuff awards are made of.  Two quick swoops of the paintbrush, and the local art museum is on the phone.

That’s not usually how it works.

For this particular workshop, I needed to craft a demo item to show attendees what they could make.  The image was perfect–in my mind.

In actual execution, I had to make it three times.

At first, the proportions were off.   The lights didn’t connect.  And the glue had hardened into a sort of modern plastic sculpture, so the trim didn’t attach at first.

And that’s OK.

Most of us are really hard on ourselves, when we create something new.   I have a tendency to compare my creative work with that of major design studios, filmmakers etc. and think, “Wow, that’s so far behind X,”–completely forgetting that “X”, like as not, will have a full staff to bring their creative vision to life.

The demo item wound up getting created, and looking good if I do say so myself.  But it certainly didn’t come together effortlessly, the first time.  Frustrating as they were, those “false starts” were part of the learning process: “here’s what needs to happen differently”.

4. Following the magic.

What happens as you create something new?

More often than not, it tells you how to make it.

I’ve had the pleasure of beginning to learn 3D modeling at a local community college.  Half the time, it’s a blast.

The other half, I’m pulling my hair out.

But just as with painting, sculpting, writing or any other creative endeavor–the work tends to show you the direction in which to go.

Most notably, our class was assigned a scene to craft in 3D.  I decided on an ancient temple and made a row of temple bells.  Purely by accident, I duplicated the row, creating a sort of avenue with bells on each side.

And they looked absolutely right.  Much more so than anything else I’d actually planned on doing, with the design.

5. Glowing and moving on.

Usually, you’re not aware that a creative work is good–or not.  You’re too close to it.

But on the occasions someone says, “That’s outstanding!”, or tells you how much they enjoyed your book, music, art, craft creation or otherwise, believe them.  (Yup, I”m still working on this one.  The Inner Critic sneers, “sure, they’re just being nice…” but judging from what others say about their creative process and internal dialogue, that’s not an uncommon problem.)

Now–what’s your next creative project?  And what does success look like, when you look back and there’s a (book, movie, work or art or otherwise) behind you?

 

 

 

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by Noella Noelophile®

This started out to be a post about keeping Christmas, year-round.  And as a shout-out to a number of organizations that seemed to have it in their hearts, all through the tough, turbulent road that was 2020.

But with the events in Washington today, I’m going in a different direction.

How do we stay hopeful and “dispel the darkness” when the unprecedented occurs?  We can talk all we want about “lighting one candle”, but what are our sources of inspiration?

I certainly don’t have all the answers.

What I’m planning to do, over here, is to put Valentines in our windows to the first responders, on February 1.  And to spotlight artists and nonprofits through the year.

And, of course, my plans include enjoying the writing of as many amazing authors as is humanly possible.

In the “spotlighting” department:  the Bay Area’s Dickens Fair, during Christmas season 2020, brought virtual festivity to everyone with their free “Dickens Fair at Home” program.  Every weekend, from Thanksgiving through Christmas Eve, they put up new content.  These free offerings included video performances and documentaries, downloadable recipes and sheet music and virtual crafts workshops.

They’re hoping to be back, this November, with an onsite Dickens Fair, as they’ve had since the 1970s.

Meanwhile, Aquarium of the Pacific, in Long Beach, which took a huge hit due to the pandemic, is now offering virtual tours and virtual “meetups” with some of their aquarium residents.

On weekends, they offer virtual tours of both the North Pacific Gallery, and of their Tropical Pacific Gallery.    These are 45-minute tours with a member of the Aquarium staff, where participants get to “meet” one or more of the Aquarium animals, and learn more about them.

In addition, during the week, the Aquarium offers teacher resources and virtual field trips.  And one of their new offerings, as they raise funds to continue their conservation and research, is their “Virtual Animal Encounters” program.

This is where you get to reserve a 30-minute Zoom call with a member of the Aquarium staff, who will introduce you and your work group, virtual party or at-home classroom to one of the otters or sea lions in residence.

Admit it, a cute furry otter or a few sea lion barks might lead to a very memorable event.

And finally, I love Renegade Craft Fair.  Since 2003, they’ve been showcasing the  contemporary craft community, with shows in London, Los Angeles and Seattle, among the ten cities in which they appear.

In 2020, out of concern for the well-being of their community, they had to cancel their on-location shows.  But they continue to  display the work of their continuously-evolving group of exhibiting artists and designers, in their Collective.   If you need a special gift for anyone (including you!), you’re likely to find it here.

Oh–and about Twelfth Night?  Traditionally, Christmas is officially over at midnight tonight.

Given the way things have been going, I think I’ll keep the decorations up just a little while longer.

 

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by Noella Noelophile®

Classic Christmas stories are filled with plots that start in isolation.

A disillusioned family man whose dreams didn’t pan out.  A miser who hoards gold after making the wrong choices.  Even a green creature who lives on a hill, overlooking a merry town while begrudging the residents their joy.

And you know how each of these Christmas stories ends.

Throughout 2020–a year filled with twists and turns that seemed straight out of a scary (and often heartbreaking) sci-fi movie–two things held steadfast.

Inspiration, and a spirit of hope.

As beloved events and institutions cancelled or, in some case, shelved their plans forever, others reinvented themselves.

Talented performers shared their craft on YouTube.  People from all over the world connected as once-regional events inaugurated virtual platforms.  Events that might have just given up and gone away said, “Oh no you don’t, pandemic!” and offered free resources instead, unifying communities.

And a gifted musician opened his heart through his music, reminding his wife of his love after the loss of their baby.

Hope–the belief that things may be better tomorrow–lies at the core of being  human.  Inspiration is what we gather from those around us–and sometimes provide, without even realizing it.

I’m not traditionally “religious”.  But I do find it interesting that, amid the darkest period of many of our lifetimes, the “Christmas star”–the Great Conjunction of Jupiter and Saturn–has made its appearance.

Scientists call it “coincidence” or a “natural phenomenon”.  But there are those who say, “there are no coincidences”.

Over time, I’ve come to agree with that statement.

So, as Christmas 2020 dawns, what, this year, has inspired you most?

Merry Christmas, and stay safe and healthy.  May we see a New Year in which, indeed, there are many “better tomorrows”.

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by Noella Noelophile®

“I’m thankful for everyone here,” commented one member, Wednesday morning, as our local club hosted our pre-Thanksgiving virtual meeting.

Those words have been making me smile, ever since.

Thanksgiving, 2020, looks vastly different than anything we could have imagined, one year ago.  Who would ever have thought that traveling to see relatives could be a “high-risk” situation?  Or that major events, worldwide, would shut down due to the danger of spreading COVID-19?  Or, even, that when you’re out on a walk around your neighborhood, the polite thing to do would be to avoid the neighbors approaching, on the same side of the street?

But in the midst of the unimaginable, there’s hope, resilience and a sense of community.

A beloved Christmas parade gets reimagined as a caravan.  A favorite crafts fair opens a brand-new online shop.  A yearly festival makes their artists’ well-being a priority, while  offering free downloadable sheet music and recipes to brighten Christmas season, 2020.

And we have the feeling of better days to come.

Personally, I’m very thankful for all of those.  I’ve chosen to self-isolate during the pandemic.  As such, I’ll be promoting virtual events, movies, great books, etc. through the Christmas season, in case that’s what’s also happening in your neck of the woods.

Of course, other perspectives are valid, as well.

Even this past week, discussing Thanksgiving travel, a number of people have said, “I’ll take the calculated risk.  I want my son to spend time with his grandparents,” or, “I miss my family too much, this is for them,” or, “If it happens, it happens, but I want to see my children.”

Understandable, to all of the above.  There are no easy answers here.

Other than to say, stay safe, and Happy Thanksgiving.   I’m thankful for you.

 

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by Noella Noelophile®

“I’ll be listening for groups of words that make me smile.”

One longtime member of our Toastmasters club made that statement, just this week.

He was explaining his role as Grammarian of our club.  But the comment was enough to start me thinking.

Normally, for Halloween, I write posts about how quickly Christmas is approaching.  Or the fact that Halloween is a special personal anniversary of an amazing, life-changing decision for which I’m thankful, every day.

But–not this year.

2020 has been surreal.  Life changed both rapidly and radically, with the pandemic.   A sense of “it can’t happen here” was replaced by shocking headlines and by isolation, remote connection and looking back at the way life “used to be”.  And the strangest part is, how life “used to be” was only nine months ago.

Now seems like a great time to talk about words that make us smile.

What words do the people you love use, to tell you you’re important in their lives?   What particularly memorable passages from your favorite books, have become a part of you?  What encouraging comments have you heard that kept you going forward?

Personally, this year, I’ve been taking an online course that proved very challenging.  After struggling with an assignment and admitting I didn’t get it, I asked the professor for a Zoom call.  He talked me through the procedure: “You’re very close.  You’ve almost got it,” he commented.

Prior to our conversation, I’d been wondering if dropping the class would be a thought.  After that comment, no one could pay me to do so!

And what have you said or written, lately, that’s smile-bringing?  Against the background of some harsh realities and major upheaval, what we have is one another.

One thing this pandemic seems to be emphasizing, is the power of hope, and creativity.   We’re seeing groups learn to connect via Zoom, performances like this one from the Rotterdam Philharmonic with each isolated member in harmony, and windows with encouraging messages of thanks to our first responders.

Words are the ultimate power.  With words, we can evoke anything.  A wind-swept beach.  A desolate, abandoned castle at midnight.   A city street ablaze with lights and bustling traffic.

As we all move forward together, what are the groups of words that make you smile?

 

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by Noella Noelophile®

“Days are getting shorter.”

In my memory, I can still hear my dad saying that.  Even as I find myself saying it now.

How quickly the year is passing–even the strange year that has been 2020.

If anyone had told me, last summer, what radical changes this year would bring, I would have wondered what was in their coffee.  No one could ever have foreseen cancellation of large-scale events like the Long Beach Grand Prix, the Orange County Fair or the 2021 Rose Parade®.

Nor that classes, by and large, would become online events.  Nor that going to the store, having a haircut or eating in a restaurant could be a life-threatening situation.

As we continue to social distance, and hope a vaccine for COVID-19 is near, two things remains constant.

Hope–and creativity.

Ever since March, people have found creative ways to go on with their lives.   Meetings and conferences have adapted to Zoom and similar platforms.  Milestone birthdays, graduations and sometimes even weddings have happened virtually.

And all of these are happening against the background of dire headlines, unprecedented uncertainly and in some cases, complete devastation.

Which makes me wish I could talk to my grandmother.  She was a young married woman in 1906, and would have been in her early thirties in 1918.  She’d have experienced the Spanish flu pandemic.  I don’t recall her ever talking about it, but it would certainly have been in the headlines in her time.

What I do remember about my grandmom, is her creativity and talent.  She was always sewing, baking or cooking.  I can still see her, in my mind’s eye, sitting at the old metal Singer sewing machine.  Working the foot treadle, she’d create a dress for a granddaughter, that granddaughter’s doll, or clothes for a new baby in the church community.

And I still have two patchwork quilts she made, one with a blue background and one with pink.

Baking was also an area in which she excelled.  Of course, her cookies were what the grandchildren remembered best.  But my mother talked about bread-baking days when all the local schoolchildren would come by for a piece of hot bread with butter and sugar.  As a teenager, I remember going with her to deliver her homemade Christmas bread to members of her congregation.  She’d baked the bread in Christmas wreaths, and decorated it with white maraschino cherries and slivered almonds.   The end product could have rivaled any Christmastime bakery-window display!

Sewing and baking would have been a necessity in her day.  But they were also creative outlets–which probably provided some hope and comfort.  Grandmother’s lifetime included, not just the Spanish flu pandemic but both World Wars and the Great Depression.  There was also a personal tragedy: her younger daughter died of diphtheria, at the age of three.  Vaccines for this now all-but-extinct disease were still decades away.

Creating something can give a sense of hope.  There’s a feeling of, “I can make something good happen.  I am not helpless.”   I’m seeing people draw on their creativity and resourcefulness with a background theme of a popular hashtag: “We will get through this.”

As we go forward towards autumn and Christmas season 2020, I’m keeping my grandmother’s creativity in mind.

After all, she dealt with the “unprecedented” too–and came out on the other side.

 

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by Noella Noelophile®

My mother always smelled of Arpege cologne.  It was her favorite.

When company was coming, or for a special occasion, she’d always wear her pearls.  They made her look especially pretty.

And I always hated to see her volunteer as “class mother”.

Why, given that she was an amazing mom?

Simply because, if there were a game or exercise for which she had to choose students to participate, I knew she wouldn’t pick me.

She didn’t want to “play favorites”.

But what I remember best about my mother, was one experience in autumn, 1967.

She’d gone to the bank and store on a routine errand.  When she returned, she had a story to tell.

“I saw all this money blowing around on the street,” she said.  “I thought it was play money.  Then, I looked more closely and saw it was real money.”

The total sum of the cash blowing around the street?  Around $200.

My mom said she’d gathered up the bills, with the help of a friend from church who happened by.  Then, she went on to the bank–where she asked for her favorite teller.

“I think one of your depositors might have dropped this,” my mother said.

Hearing the story from my mom was no surprise.  That was how she was.   If your mother is a concert pianist, you’re used to hearing symphonies.

But the story doesn’t end there.

My mom had been home from the store for about an hour when the doorbell rang.  When she answered it, an older gentleman stood on the front porch.

He had come to thank her.

“I cashed my pension check,” our visitor said.  “I reached in my pocket for a handkerchief and must have pulled out the money.  That’s my income for the next two weeks.”

He insisted on giving my mother a $10 reward, which she didn’t want to take.  And about a week later, a letter came in the mail.

His daughter, a Catholic nun, had written my mother a beautiful note, thanking her for her kindness to her dad.  My mother, of course, would never have thought of doing any differently.

“I don’t want what doesn’t belong to me,” she commented.

In this day when people make headlines for returning large sums of money they’ve found, I think about that experience a lot.

Thank you for your gift, Mom.  Happy Mother’s Day, and I miss you.

 

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by Noella Noelophile®

During my growing-up years, Easter was always a time of celebration.

My family would travel to my grandmother’s house in Wilmington, Delaware, to spend the week.

The weather was chilly but beautiful. Robins hopped around the backyard.  Violets bloomed in profusion.  The neighbors had a greenhouse, filled with hyacinths, daffodils and tulips.  One of those somehow, mysteriously, always wound up on my grandmother’s front porch on Easter morning.

And it was a time of bustling activity.  We’d hurry off to the local shopping center for new everything: shoes, hats, sometimes new suits or dresses.  Everyone wanted to look their best for Easter Sunday morning church services.

Easter 2020 is unprecedented, for all of us.

With the coronavirus pandemic, scary news is a daily occurrence.  Grocery deliveries take on a Christmas-morning status.  Walking away from someone as you say “hello” is now considered the polite thing to do!

And of course, we’re all isolated–but not alone.

I’m loving the ways people are using their creativity to celebrate their holiday–and get through the pandemic.

Neighbors are printing and coloring eggs for a “virtual Easter egg hunt”.  Kids walk around the neighborhood and see how many they can spot.  One neighbor even painted rocks to look like Easter eggs, and put them on her front lawn!

Sidewalk chalk paintings are showing up in our neighborhood on a regular basis.  One very talented neighbor has drawn Spring flowers in her driveway.  A number of our younger residents have drawn rainbows and “Miss you, see you soon!” messages.

And we laughed out loud, recently.  One neighbor has a huge whimsical sculpture of a dinosaur on his lawn.  When we walked by a few days ago, it was wearing a mask–like the rest of us!  (No word yet on whether it’s wearing bunny ears, for today!)

It seems that a crisis brings out both the best and the worst of human nature.   The creativity is all of us, at our best.

Happy Easter!  We will get through this, together.

 

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by Noella Noelophile®

In this time of crisis, two things don’t seem to be in short supply.

Hope–and ingenuity.

As the headlines become more heartbreaking, we’re seeing both the best and worst of human nature.

Let’s concentrate on the best here.

With California currently on lockdown, we’ve seen a lot of creativity, both online and on our permitted short walks (with social distancing, of course!).

More than one neighbor has used sidewalk chalk to draw beautiful flowers and write messages.  “See you soon”, “We will do this together” and “Miss you” are all common themes.

On Sunday, we heard honking–and a convoy of trucks, decorated with mylar balloons, made the loop through our residential tract.   Signs read, “Happy 16th, Hayley!*”

Midway through the procession came a car, with a sixteen-year-old girl waving through the sunroof.  We shouted birthday greetings to Hayley*, from a safe distance.

On our community forum, neighbors have begun suggesting we stand teddy bears in our windows.  Then, during walks, children can go on a “teddy bear hunt” and see how many they can spot!

Another generous neighbor has turned her front yard tree into a “giving tree” for the children, with bubbles and coloring books tied onto the tree for the taking.  Young participants are requested to just take one free item per day.

And online, we’re seeing writers’ and artists’ communities offer to promote one another’s work.

Which leads to a question for you.

Do you know of one or more of these that are (a) supporting the creative participants, free of charge; and (b) a community with which you’ve had one or more excellent experiences and which you would heartily recommend?

I’d love to post specifics in my future posts, so let me know, at noelophile@gmail.com.

Meanwhile, stay safe, and well.  I’ll close with something one of our members said this morning, during our Toastmasters online meeting:

“We’re isolated.  But we’re not alone.”

 

*Name has been changed.

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by Noella Noelophile®

It’s here–2020!  The start of a new year, and a new decade.

Isn’t it interesting how something new can be exciting and scary, all at once?

Remember the first day of kindergarten?  And/or first grade, depending on when you started school?

It all sounded fantastic.  But then, you had to actually leave what you knew and do it.

So much of life is like that.

I remember growing up on the East Coast–and dreaming of moving to California for, literally, years.  The opportunity presented itself after I graduated college.  Grad school beckoned–in San Francisco.

They didn’t have to ask twice.

And then came early September and the day of my departure for the West Coast.  Our neighbor came to the door to drive me to the airport.

To my amazement, when the doorbell rang, my initial reaction was, “Just give me five minutes more here, with what I know.”

Couldn’t believe I thought that!  Of course, I didn’t say it.   Leaving the familiar was scary–and I’m thankful, every day of my life, that I did strike out into the unknown.

San Francisco was amazing.  So were the ensuing years, getting to live in California.

Now, 2020 feels like standing on a threshold.  In many ways, it is.  The start of a new decade!

And it’s unfamiliar.  Like a huge, unopened box that could contain a rubber spider–or sparkling rubies.

I know what I’m hoping it contains.  Health, happiness, creative opportunities, romantic times with my husband.  Not necessarily in that order.

As we strike out into the unknown together, I wish all the same for you.  May you see your fondest wishes realized this year, and this decade–and may they be better than you could ever have imagined.

Happy New Year!

 

 

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by Noella Noelophile®

Merry Christmas!  To me, that very phrase sounds bursting with magic.

This is the season for creating magic.  The Santa packages mysteriously left at the door; the festive lights;  the sound of carols.  And I’m remembering a lot of Christmas magic today.

The first really magical Christmas moment I can recall came when I was about five.

My mom worked for a life-insurance company in New York City, and they had a Christmas party every year.  She would always take me, and Santa would arrive after the dinner and festivities.

But the magical part happened on the way over.

We took a bus down Fifth Avenue, on an evening in early December.

Garlands festooned the street, as far as the eye could see.  Every store glowed with colored lights.  Light snow flurries were falling.

It was enchanting–even for a kid anxious to see Santa.

Fast forward by about seventeen years.

I was on my own in San Francisco (at at time when young single people could still actually afford a single apartment there!). I worked for a large card store in Ghirardelli Square.  And when my shift was over, the time had come to go Christmas shopping, on Fisherman’s Wharf.

Now, as a kid from the East Coast, I’d often wondered how anyone could feel Christmasy without snow.  This was my first Christmas in The City.

And walking down the Wharf, the first sights you saw were the ships, moored in the harbor, with multicolored lights on their masts.  Small independent shops were lit up in their Christmastime best.  And everyone was having fun shopping.

I came back to my apartment laden down with packages, and feeling very Christmasy indeed!

And so many magical moments, through the decades of Christmas I’ve experienced, had to do with the efforts of others to make them so.

One Christmas I especially remember was the one where, as a preteen, I returned from an errand to my grandmother’s house.  My favorite uncle had dropped by while I was out.

“Do you hear your Christmas present?” he asked.

I listened–and a record player was playing the Firestone Christmas album!  (Remember how gas stations used to sell vinyl records to get business, ‘way back when?)

And we still have most of those records.  He had gathered five or six Christmas compilations, along with year-round orchestral and pop selections he thought an eleven-year-old would like.

As Christmas 2019 makes its appearance, who or what has made it magical for you?  And what magic will you create–today and over Christmastide?

Merry Christmas!

 

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by Noella Noelophile®

Magic is what Christmas is all about.

I’ll be exploring that today and tomorrow.

One of this year’s very magical moments happened yesterday.

In Southern California, it had rained.  And rained.  And then–it rained.  A huge winter storm, snarling the freeways and making travel a challenge.

But hearing the rain on the roof, with Christmas music playing, was magical.

We saw the lights of our neighbors’ houses glowing, ate gingerbread (a quick Christmas tip–less molasses for an old-fashioned gingerbread “cake” recipe makes it less sticky and REALLY good!) and put on our LED candles.  (As mentioned before, we are ruled by felines.  Any other kind would be a little treacherous!)

And then, the sun set.

We had a stormy sky, and a glow in the West that made the piled-up clouds look like an illuminated ski slope.  Could there, possibly, be a rainbow?

We ran outside to find out.

Ohhhh….

A perfect one, arching over right where we were.  Like having our world wrapped up in a ribbon with a “bow”.

Now, what have been some of the most magical moments for you, during your Christmas season 2019?

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by Noella Noelophile®

Sometimes the smallest things can remind us of all our reasons for gratitude.

In our case, that “small thing” crawls up on our stomachs and purrs in the morning.

Snow Leopard, our ten-year-old kitty, does not like cold.  Since she’s a California kitty, that would mean “any time the thermometer dips below seventy”.

Consequently, when mornings get chilly, we get a gentle paw on the covers.  And a persistent paw.  After all, she is a cat.  She knows who’s in charge in this house!

Then, once she gains entry to the warm space, she does what any happy cat will do.

Knead, knead.  Purr, purr.  Oh, that hurts…because, of course, kneading involves claws.

But if you put your hands under her paws, she can lull you right to sleep with her purrs.

In the rush of getting ready for Thanksgiving and Christmas, our sweetheart cat reminds us that what’s really important is taking the time to enjoy those who love us.

Now, when you look at your reasons for gratitude–what, or who, tops the list?

Happy Thanksgiving!

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by Noella Noelophile®

More than three decades ago, this very night, I experienced “the witching hour”.

Magic was afoot–but not the Hollywood-style, say-an-incantation-and-see-results type.

No, this particular personal magic came about as an end result of daring to do something that terrified me.

I had been working a desk job, growing increasingly bored and frustrated.  But I couldn’t afford to quit–supposedly.  Money was tight, and I was attending a trade school to learn to do what I really wanted to do.

But then, the school alerted current students that they had ninety days to finish their  courses.

There was no way.  Or was there?  With a loan and careful budgeting, could I possibly attend full-time, and make it through?

There was one way to find out.

Consequently, on Halloween night, 1988, I closed the door of the office behind me for the last time.   My resignation was now final.  The journey was beginning.

Heading for the trade school, to embark on three months of from-the-moment-they-open-till-they-close work and study, I didn’t know what the future would be.

“This is either the craziest thing I’ve ever done–or the absolute sanest…”

I still remember looking up at the moon in the dark alley, that Halloween night.  People were hurrying about in costumes, celebrating.   I didn’t know if I’d have anything to celebrate in three months–but there was no way I couldn’t take the opportunity.  Or, perhaps, make the opportunity.

The following three months laid the groundwork for a career I loved.  My first paid gigs came about, in the field.  Ultimately, I had a completely different profession.

And today, I look back on Halloween night, 1988, as a landmark anniversary.  The life-changing date–“the witching hour”.

Happy Halloween!   May your personal magic lead you to accomplish your goals and dreams–even if they scare you.

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by Noella Noelophile®

Today, for International Women’s Day, the hashtag #SheInspiresMe has been trending.

And we’ve all honored some pretty amazing women.  Lady Gaga, Gloria Steinem, Melinda Gates, Michelle Obama…the list goes on.

But the first woman who inspired me, in my lifetime, was my maternal grandmother, Viva Todd.

Born in 1886, she had very few opportunities.  Grandmom worked in a Maryland tapestry mill until her marriage, at the age of twenty.  She had had a third-grade education–then, her ailing mother kept her home to help raise her siblings.

And as a young married woman in 1906, she was disappointed to become pregnant with the first of her five children, within five months of her wedding.  She’d already had her fill of taking care of younger children!

None of the above, though, describes the grandmother I knew.

We’d come down on the train to visit her in Wilmington, Delaware every spring, summer and Christmas season.  She’d always be waiting, smiling, with her homemade cake or cookies sitting in the pantry.  A slight woman, she nevertheless had very definite ideas, a loving heart and seemingly boundless perseverance.

Had she lived in another time, Grandmom could easily have been a designer.   My mother would tell stories of her going to Philadelphia for the day, seeing a dress in the window of a department store, coming home and stitching up that same dress for herself.  As her children grew up in the Depression, she made everyone’s clothes.   When the grandchildren came along, she dressed dolls for them, making full-length dresses with tiny perfect smocking stitches.

Active and beloved in her church, she rarely missed Sunday school or the regular service.    Every morning, she said a prayer before breakfast, and read her Bible as the day started.  Giving, before “giving back to the community” became a catchphrase, was her way of life.

Most of us can either cook or bake–but not both.  For Grandmom, both were her areas of expertise.

At Christmas, she baked “Christmas bread” in wreath-shaped loaves, decorating them with candied cherries and frosty white icing.  Then, we’d walk together to deliver them to neighbors and members of her church.

Christmas, during my growing-up years, was synonymous with “going to Grandmom’s.”  It occurs to me now that she must have worked for days, baking four or five different kinds of cookies and making fudge and peanut-butter fondant candy for company.  On Christmas Day, the whole family would come over for dinner and a visit, and dishes of fudge, nuts, cookies and every imaginable sweet got passed around as everyone caught up.

Grandmom Todd valued “looking nice” and was a lady, through and through.  “Watch your language!” she once warned, when one grandchild used the words “belly button” around her.

My mother would relate that Grandmom had always wanted more education, and would study along with her children when they came home from school.   “Always know the title of the book, and the author’s name,” she would direct, when she’d ask grandchildren what they were currently reading.

And she was a storyteller.   Weekly, she’d write a letter to my mother, filling her in on all the latest news.  One of my absolute favorite stories, though, was one she shared of a time, as a young person in the youth group in her church in Elkton, she went with other young people on a hayride.  One of the wagon wheels broke, necessitating the boys in the group to get out and do repairs.

Grandmom said that one of the boys claimed he had a “toothache” and put his head down in her lap.

“That was your grandfather,” she said.

Repairs, she continued, took most of the night–and the young people got home around five in the morning.  Ever after, our shared joke was that my proper, ladylike grandmother was “out all night on the town”!

Although Grandpop had passed before I was old enough to remember him, her stories of their marriage depicted a partnership of respect and love.  She related the story of a man in need, in the church, and the way she and Grandpop had sat down together to discuss his situation and determine whether they could lend him money.  With five children during the Depression, there was very little to spare–but they did.

And her stories of him reflected a man with a playful spirit, who called her “Bobbie” and liked to make gentle jokes.   “He leaned over and bit my ear once,” she commented.

I was lucky enough to have Grandmom in my life until my early twenties.  Seventy at the time of my birth, she lived long enough to see all four of her grandchildren graduate college–a proud accomplishment for her.   In the process, she made me question anyone who says they are “too old” to do something.

A matter of months after my graduation, Grandmom Todd, age ninety-two, passed away.  Today I have two of the quilts she made, and a small jelly glass.  Every Easter, her yard was filled with wild violets, which I’d pick for her and put in that glass.

When we bought our home, in California, I’d rarely seen wild violets out here.  But somehow, finding the house after, literally, months of searching, it felt right.

After we moved in, it felt even more so.

In two spots in the yard were the heart-shaped leaves and deep purple flowers.

Thank you, Grandmom.

 

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by Noella Noelophile®

That was quick.

It’s Twelfth Night–the traditional end of Christmas.

December is thirty-one days long.  The Christmas season now appears to start just after Halloween (!).

Even so, it seems to be over very quickly.

We’re still playing music and have the Christmas lights lit–till bedtime tonight.  And we hate to turn them off.

So, what are you doing to keep the “lights” glowing, figuratively and otherwise, in 2019?

Christmas 2019 – in the planning stages

We suspect that, at this point, preparations will be just getting started in Solvang for Julefest, 2019!  (Solvang Conference and Visitors Bureau Sales and Special Programs Manager Daniel Lahr mentioned, in a pre-Christmas interview, that preparation for the next Julefest happens just after the conclusion of the previous one).

In Seal Beach, which just had an amazing Christmas parade a month ago, the Seal Beach Lions Club has almost certainly begun preparations for the 2019 edition.  They just might need volunteers, if you’re local!

Meanwhile, the Bay Area’s much-beloved Dickens Fair will be considering proposals from performers this spring.  (Their page currently lists a May deadline for the 2018 edition, so I’m going with that for now, but will update this when I know for certain.)

If you wanted to attend their 2018 edition in Victorian costume, but had no time to make anything, now’s a great time to take advantage of their resources–in which they give you Victorian costume guidelines and other ways to “Prepare for the Fair”!

And, if you happen to be a Bay Area resident who’d like to get involved as a volunteer, their volunteer workshops usually begin in October.  Keep an eye on their website for updates and details.

Oh, and did you, by any chance, miss the opportunity to make candy canes–free–on a pre-Christmas weekend at Nelson’s Columbia Candy Kitchen?   This fantastic, family-owned business offers that special tradition every year.   You might like to start sending them postcards, for consideration for next Christmas season.  They do random drawings of postcards sent in, to see who gets to participate, and the deadline to send them one is Labor Day weekend.

And–figuratively speaking

Another way to keep the “Christmas lights” glowing figuratively?

Well, what would make you say, “That was really fun!”?   What creative project would you like to do for you–and no one else?  Where haven’t you gone that you’d like to, and what haven’t you experienced that you’d enjoy?

A few Christmases ago, one of our neighbors, “Kenneth” was outside as we took a morning walk.   He was polishing his pride and joy–a vintage automobile, circa about 1928.

“Want a ride?” he asked.

He didn’t have to ask twice!

Around several blocks we went, in that wonderful classic car.  Neighbors looked at us, smiled and waved.

Kenneth beamed and hit the horn–“AH-OOGA!”–a few times, drawing attention to the unusual vehicle chugging by.  “Merry Christmas!”  we called when people turned to look.

What a wonderful experience.  We’re so thankful to Kenneth for asking if we wanted to go!  That’s a Christmas memory that’s going to glow in my memory for a long, long time.

Now, what’s the first intangible Christmas present you want to give yourself, or someone you love, for 2019?   Somehow, these turn out to be some of the best.

Hope you had a wonderful, Merry Christmas and will have a Happy, healthy New Year!

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by Noella Noelophile®

My husband used an interesting phrase last evening.   “It’s time to settle into Christmas”.

I love that!  It brings to mind red-and-green patchwork quilts, warm cocoa and fireplaces.  And it’s something we all tend not to do, with the crazy to-do lists that can happen during the Christmas season.

With that in mind, here are three of my favorite “settle into Christmas” moments from Christmas season 2018:

• Sunset on Second Street, in Belmont Shore, during the first week in December;

 

• Dinner in our favorite Irish pub in Seal Beach, with lots of greenery, a fireplace and Christmas lights, just before the Seal Beach Christmas Parade;

 

• A meeting of our Toastmasters club, in mid-December, where the organizer brought Santa caps and reindeer-antlers for everyone and Table Topics speakers interacted with funny “singing” Christmas trees, snowmen and Santas!

Now, what are some of your favorite “settle into Christmas” moments?   I hope a lot of new ones happen for you today.

Merry Christmas 2018!!!  Hope it’s a light-filled, joyous holiday for you and yours.

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by Noella Noelophile®

Tonight is it–Halloween!  And the witches, ghouls and goblins will be out in force.

As we celebrate, a lot of us will be pretending to have “magical powers”.  It’s all part of the act if you dress as a superhero, witch or other supernatural creature.

However–in real life, there are words that amount to magic.

Thirty years ago today–to the day–I experienced that.

Working a dead-end office job, I’d also been taking evening broadcasting classes–and had fallen in love with all aspects of radio.  I could practically count the days until broadcasting became my career.

Then, one night, one instructor told his class, “Remember–no matter what you do to make the rent–you are still a broadcaster.”

The words “I am” are the most powerful in our language.  Whatever follows them, you tend to believe.  And when you believe, you act “as if”.

This past weekend, another powerful pair of words came up, as well.

At a conference in Long Beach, several speakers referenced the words “what if”.

“What if”, they said, is the foundation of storytelling.  It’s where you begin the journey of imagination.

But it’s also the foundation of inventions, scientific and otherwise.   The automobile, passenger flight, and the Internet all started with, “what if”.

And today, decades after we saw a man walk on the moon, we continue to ask, “what if”.  As in, “What if cars drove themselves?   What if private citizens flew into space? What if we could colonize Mars?”

“What if” is magical because it spawns more “what ifs”.

Coming back to my magical experience?  It, too, started with “what if”, and “I am”.

Since the instructor’s comment, I’d been mentally saying, over and over, “I am a broadcaster”.  That meant coming to the studios faithfully to learn, practice and spending every spare hour trying to get good at it.

Then, in October, 1988, the broadcasting school I’d been attending sent out notices.

Students were notified that they had a limited amount of time to finish their degrees.  Receiving that notice that said, “there will be no further extensions after this date”, meant “full-on, or forget it”.

At first, I thought, “That’s it–guess I don’t get to be a broadcaster, after all.  I can’t finish in three months, working full-time.”

The thought crept in.  “What if I got a loan and took these classes full-time?”

Now, I’m not suggesting, especially today, that anyone walk away from a full-time job.   At least, not without planning, preparation and at least three “Plan B” backups, should things not work out.   Jobs were more plentiful in 1988, with less competition.  Rents were less expensive.  Plus, I was very lucky.

But, the fact remains that that “what if”–combined with the “I am…” gave me the courage to try for my dream.

The loan came through.

And on Halloween night, 1988, I worked my last day at a desk job and closed the office door behind me.

As I headed to Hollywood, and our broadcasting school, I remember looking up at the moon and thinking, “I’m either crazy–or more sane than ever before.”

I spent every waking hour of those last three months finishing my broadcasting course.

It was a scary and wonderful time.  Money was tight, and no guarantees that anything would ever happen.  But somehow, it worked out, with my first part-time broadcasting job becoming available a matter of weeks after that Halloween.

Another opportunity opened up three months later–and grew into a full-time job.  But the job I really enjoyed the most, and remember as the best, was a small-market radio gig that started on weekends, in September, 1989.

My broadcasting career has been crazy, low-paid, sometimes stressful, and never boring.

And it was an amazing adventure, that continues today.  I wouldn’t trade one minute of it.

This Halloween, 2018, what I wish for you is that your words may provide the pathway to your dreams.   May you experience the positive power of “I am” and “what if”.

And thirty years from today, may you look back and say, “Wow.  I’m so glad I did.”

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by Noella Noelophile®

I saw the sunset on my way home today.

It had a feel of warmth, anticipation–and freedom.  Wintry sunsets are always a favorite reminder that Christmas isn’t that far off.  And the flags lining the street served as a reminder that Veteran’s Day is this Saturday, November 11th.

Would you like to say “thank you” to our troops and veterans?  Here are a couple of great organizations you might like to consider.

Soldiers’ Angels is currently collecting “Treats for Troops”, with the goal of gathering 17,000 pounds of candy for soldiers and veterans.  In addition, they have numerous volunteer programs in support of deployed service members, veterans and their families.

San Pedro Packages for Patriots is also collecting Halloween candy.  And in addition, for Christmas, they’d like to collect “as many Christmas decorations as they can” for troops away from home this season.   They suggest tiny Christmas trees, Christmas cards, Santa beards and hats,, stockings and snowflakes, but have fun making a service member’s Christmas Day a little brighter.  Here’s the link to their list.

And if you’d like some additional ideas on how to help and thank veterans and service members during the Christmas season (or year-round!), here’s the link to nonprofit Charity Navigator, which can point you towards other reputable organizations currently serving veterans and military service members.

Thank you for wanting to help–and if you are a veteran, member of our military or of a military family, thank you for our freedom.

 

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by Noella Noelophile®

“Uh-oh!” my husband exclaimed.

I turned from arranging a plate of chocolate-chip cookies to give the neighbors.  The timing was perfect–that was just as our cat, “Snow”, made a leap that may qualify her for a role in The Nutcracker next year.

And what goes up, must come down.  In this case, kitty landed directly in the middle of my carefully-arranged plate of cookies.OK.  So Christmas Eve Day was spent baking more cookies for the neighbors.  Bad kitty!  Beautiful kitty.  (If you are a similar “crazy cat person” and need a feline for your Christmastide and about the next fifteen years, may I just climb up on my soapbox for a second and say–shelter adoption?  Please?  I’ll even provide the link to Long Beach Animal Care Services here–they have some wonderful cats available for forever homes.)

But–I’m getting off topic.The point, other than to share a fun Christmas 2016 memory with you, is that Christmas zooms by far too fast.

I remember that from my youth.  Weather was straight out of a Christmas card–silvery frost and snow.  Time seemed to stand still under all the snow–it seemed we’d never, ever, ever get to Christmas morning and the tree and presents!  And then, suddenly, Christmas morning was half over, all the packages were opened and we had to start setting the table.  Relatives were coming!

More years later than I care to tell you, and thousands of miles away. there’s no snow for Christmas.  But in drought-stricken California, the past two days’ rain were a fantastic gift.

And the season’s STILL zooming by too fast.My favorite parts of Christmas 2016?  Today, of course–a bright-blue Christmas ornament of a morning with all the houses decorated with lights.  But also, the Dickens Christmas Fair preparations (and if you’re in the Bay Area, now’s a great time to tell you that they start taking volunteers in about September, if you want to be part of their 2017 festivities!).

Another favorite?  Getting to be a part of Haute Dogs’ “Operation Santa Paws” visit to the local animal shelters, one weekend ago.  And, of course, seeing the breathtaking lighted trees at night on the shoreline in Long Beach.

Wherever you’re celebrating Christmas (or Hanukkah), solstice or otherwise, today, may it be full of light, joy and may you be surrounded by those you love.  And I wish we could make Christmas last for at least another week, but preferably all year.  Merry Christmas!

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by Noella Noelophile®

On Wednesday morning, we went to the store to pick up a certain gobbler.

As we drove into the parking lot, the sky was bright-blue.  In the air was the heavenly scent of someone’s wood-burning fireplace,  Then, we heard a familiar, squawking cry.  Sea gulls!

All of the above reminded me of what I’m thankful for, this Thanksgiving.

When I was growing up, on the East Coast, sea gulls were something you heard in the summertime.  Their cries sounded of sunny days and freedom–and years after moving away from the ice and snow, it’s still fantastic to live in a beautiful state where we hear them on a regular basis.What else am I thankful for?  Here in Long Beach, we’re a small community by the sea.  Later this morning, community activist Justin Rudd hosts the “Long Beach Turkey Trot”, a 5K and 10K Thanksgiving Day marathon with all the proceeds going to charity.  They’ll have runners and walkers starting at 7:00 am, 8:30 am and 10 am, at 1 Granada (right by the beach!).  It’s a glorious place to spend Thanksgiving morning, if you have the time.Later on in the Christmas season, Justin and his “Community Action Team” will bring the community together with a “Christmas Cookie Contest” and a visit to local animal shelters to bring cheer to the animals awaiting forever homes.  Justin’s community spirit and loving heart are  two definite reasons for thankfulness in Long Beach–and if you’d like to volunteer to help C.A.T. with any upcoming events, they will definitely be thankful for your time.

In California in general, there always seems to be something interesting happening.  I’m thankful to be within a day’s travel to San Francisco, with its quirky, unique events.  The Great Dickens Christmas Fair will forever and always be a favorite–and if you’re in the Bay Area, you may be thankful to hear that they’re open tomorrow, as well as weekends through December 19th.

Additional blessings?  Family and friends are a given, as is a special someone in my life.  (You know who you are, and you cook a mean Thanksgiving turkey.)   I’m thankful for the giving spirit of artisans like Paula Bennett, who continues to teach fiber arts to the next generation, free, through her nonprofit yes4arts.  I love getting to watch the sun rise over palm trees and not having to worry that it may snow and we’ll have to shovel before work.  And I love the spirit of indomitable writers and artists on whom I frequently report in this blog–who may have faced incredible challenges but remain positive and inspiring.Happy Thanksgiving, 2016!  Now–what are you thankful for?

 

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by Noella Noelophile®

It happened this past Thursday.

Strolling down a favorite Long Beach street, blocks from the beach, on an 80-plus-degree August day, I headed into a favorite card/novelty store.

And there it was, right where it could scare anyone back out of the store.  A display of Christmas cards.

“That wasn’t my idea,” said the saleswoman apologetically.  “We just put out the  Halloween stuff.  My manager wanted to do this.”Guess I’ll always be hopelessly old-fashioned.   I’m old enough to remember a time when we never saw so much as the tip of a reindeer antler before Thanksgiving.  (Of course, those were also the days of dime stores that sold little pocket mirrors you could buy, dust with silver glitter and paste on plastic deer to “drink” from a starlit pond, as a Christmas craft.  As well as the days of red and green wax trees and whipped-wax snowball candles–remember those?  AND of the four-foot lighted choirboy trios that adorned porches and lawns throughout December.)

But, okay.  While I refuse to buy Christmas cards while we’re still talking about ‘the dog days of summer”, I may as well share some early resources with you.After all, now is the perfect time to plan ahead.

If you and your family would love to do something special in one of the weekends before Christmas, we are coming up on a deadline.

Nelson’s Columbia Candy Kitchen, a five-generation family business, invites visitors to make candy canes with them, for free, from late November through the weekend before Christmas.   (Here’s a link to an earlier interview with Janice Nelson, about their unique store.)

As you might imagine, though, just about everyone wants to do this!  For consideration, you need to send a postcard (or more than one) to them at the store.  The deadline is Labor Day, and they’ll draw, at random, to determine who gets to be their guest for the Christmas 2016 season.  Here’s the link for information.

Now, if you, like me, fondly remember vintage Christmas ornaments–OR you love that look–you might just like to pay a visit to Whimzy.  This is a very cool craft supply/vintage treasure store, run by Dianne White.  Not only do they showcase work by local artists–they’ve also started teaching crafts classes.  And if my earlier comment about “whipped-wax candles” filled you with nostalgia, you may just find a few of those on hand.

(Dianne and her sister, Sheryl Simpson, are also the co-founders of Glitterfest, a very fun juried mixed-media art festival.  I love this one!  The next Glitterfest happens on October 15th.)

Now, would you like to get involved crafting something exciting for Christmas 2016–while you still have time to finish it? 

If you’d like to know more about needle arts, you couldn’t possibly do better than to ask designer Paula Bennett, founder of nonprofit yes4arts.  She offers free knitting and crocheting classes, asking only that her students “pay it forward” by teaching others what they’ve learned.  (But she will accept donations of yarn or crochet hooks/knitting needles, if you have extras, as she continues her work instructing the next generation of fiber artists.)

And be prepared–she’s going to take any preconceived notion you may have had about needle arts, and turn it on its ear!  She designs slinky, sexy, and innovative clothing, using both knitting and crochet.  Above is of the pictures from this year’s yes4arts Spring Fashion Show.

You might also like to mark your calendar, before you get busy this Christmas season.  Saturday, November 13th, will be the date of Paula’s first “Winter Holiday Fair”, in Torrance!  She’s offering free classes, including Renaissance doll making for kids and intermediate design techniques for more advanced fiber artists!  There will also be vendors onsite, selling their handmade work, as well as great food.

OK.  While I’m still getting used to the idea of Christmas  in August, starting to think about Christmas now does have its advantages.  Mainly, being able to plan something special without the frantic, “Oh no!  It snuck up on me!” element.

But with that said–I hope that store will wait a little longer, next year, to put out the Christmas cards.  At least till the week after Labor Day.

 

 

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by Noella noelophile®

In our house, we’d had a very mature discussion.

The time had come to welcome a new feline family member (or two).   We were headed for the local shelter.

Mature cats, we had agreed, were our candidates.  They were less likely to be adopted, and a lot less rambunctious for their future lives as indoor kitties.We were sticking to our plan beautifully.

In the cat room of Long Beach’s Pitchford Companion Animal Village, we’d lost our hearts to a gorgeous, three-and-a-half-year-old silver tabby mix.  One cat adopted, one more to go.

And then…

We walked past a cage just near the door.  A small, five-month-old black kitten with downy, baby fur thrust a paw through the bars at my husband.  “Mieuw…”(You probably know what comes next.  She had us at “Mieuw”!)

Ever notice how, the moment you’re comfortably “felined’, other adoptable candidates (“catdidates?”) seem to come purring out of the woodwork?Our two four-legged family members have now been part of the household for years, and we know who’s in charge around here.  Anyone who doesn’t, can just ask our silver-tabby dominant kitty, “Snow”–after they finish scratching her chin.

And now, pet shops seem to have adoptions every week, with cats practically pointing to themselves as you walk by. “ME-ow!  Me! Now!”  There is a glorious Maine coon cat in a window not far from the grocery–and she has a way of following passersby with her eyes.  “I am auditioning a new family, wouldn’t you like to submit your application?”

Last Christmas season, we enjoyed “Operation Santa Paws”, where Justin Rudd and company visited local animal shelters.We could hear this kitty purring through the bars of her cage at the Seal Beach Animal Care Center.  If we didn’t already have two perfectly good “miniature lions”, we would certainly have brought her home!   (However, ours already don’t seem to comprehend that a bed has sufficient space for two cats!)

But–if you love kitties and can make a fifteen- to twenty-year commitment (if you’re lucky, that’s how long they can live!), you might like to “audition” at your local shelter.  Sadly, Pitchford, in Long Beach, is not a no-kill.  If you start there, you may be saving a life.Closer to Seal Beach?  Seal Beach Animal Care Center is a no-kill shelter, and they’d welcome your support.  (They need volunteers, if you aren’t in a position to adopt.)

And earlier this year, Los Angeles became the largest city to ban retail sales of non-rescue pets.  Does your city have that ban?  Here is the link to a great nonprofit–Best Friends,  the leader of the no-kill movement.  They publish a list of cities and states with retail pet sale bans. 

You’ll find resources, ways to get involved and, of course, adoptions in your area.

Happy Caturday!  May you wind up with a four-legged sovereign who graciously accepts your devotion.

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by Noella Noelophile®

“I thought you’d want to know.   Jim passed away yesterday.”

The Facebook message was from a friend I’ve known since grammar-school days.  It wasn’t a surprise.  But it was still a shock.

I last saw Pastor Jim when I was seventeen.  In his early thirties, he’d been the pastor of our small-town church for about seven years.  My family lived next door to the parsonage, so we saw him, his wife Karen and their four small children frequently.

What I remember best about Pastor Jim, is his sense of fun, and his effortless kindness.In the 1970s, the idea of a minister with imagination and a sense of humor still raised some eyebrows.  Pastor Jim could deliver a one-liner from the pulpit–in the middle of a well-thought-out sermon.   He obviously loved being a minister, and serving his family and his congregation.  But he seemed to see no need to be stuffy about it.

During a church trip, Pastor Jim stepped to the front of the bus to give the congregation the day’s agenda.   “We’ll be arriving at about eleven,” he said.  “You’ll have about an hour to explore.  Then we’ll meet back at the picnic area, and have grace before lunch.”

“Who’s she?” wisecracked one congregation member.

Without missing a beat, Pastor Jim quipped, “She’s on the other bus!”

Once, when his five-year-old, Jeanie, fell and scraped her knee, she ran to her father.  “Wow, I felt everything shake when you fell, Jeanie.  You must have fallen hard,” her dad said.  Wide-eyed, Jeanie forgot her tears and speculated on the impact she had made!

Pastor Jim carried everyday compassion with him.  One day, I was outside weeding our flower bed in midsummer.  In about five minutes, the mosquitoes had decided I looked tasty–and bit accordingly.  Pastor Jim came outside as I was scratching furiously–then headed back inside.  “Kar, we got any calamine lotion?”After receiving the Facebook message, I emailed some old pictures and favorite memories to my friend, who passed them on to Pastor Jim’s family.  Later, she emailed me back that Karen had said, “Who knew that he/we made such an impression.”

And, truthfully, at the time, I didn’t realize that either.  As teenagers, we take so much for granted.   Pastor Jim, Karen and their family were a reality of daily life, and our neighbors. But in my memory, Pastor Jim will forever be in his thirties, smiling, making a gentle joke and effortlessly kind and comforting.

I wonder what indelible impressions the rest of us are making, day to day–without even realizing it.

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by Noella Noelophile®

A joyful, Merry Christmas to you!  Thank you for reading this, and for following us through the year.

California Christmas this morning–at least in the Southern California area–is clear, bright-blue and chilly.  We have forty-nine degrees at about 8 a.m.

We also have Christmas music, candles and family–and memories of snow-covered Christmases past.  (Thankfully, we don’t have to shovel, or scrape ice off, those!)

This past week, a favorite friend expressed some disappointment that Christmas was “almost over”.  That’s interesting–because she said that on December 23rd.   During the Christmases I remember as a child, the glow always seemed to linger past the day itself.

Today, it does seem that, once the turkey’s eaten and the presents are opened, we’re starting to look at Valentines.

I’d be thrilled if Christmas season started later (yes, I harp on this a lot, but I’d prefer not to see ornaments before Halloween!).  Then, wouldn’t it be great if we kept it around up through the next week–the “Christmastide” after December 25th?  And maybe even made it last till January 6th, when we celebrated a “Little Christmas” as many European families once did?

I don’t think I’m alone in this sentiment, as more than one person added, on social media, that they would like all the “special” of Christmas to last longer.  It’s like a golden blanket to me–and I’d love to wrap that “blanket” around everybody for the next weeks to come and keep the warmth and sparkle a lot longer, rather than packing it away with the after-Christmas sales tomorrow.

What do you think?   (And wherever you weigh in on this, I hope today is full of warmth, love and festivity for you.)

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by Noella Noelophile®

This is, very possibly, my favorite day of the year.

After today, December seems to melt away like peppermint-cane ice cream left in a sunny window.  No matter that it’s one of the longer months on the calendar!

But today, there is the sense of “there’s time”.

I plan to give myself a Christmas gift: thirty minutes spent sitting in a favorite Long Beach coffeehouse, under the greenery and red bows that always decorate their rafters.  And just watching December arrive.

This Christmas, my family is doing something fun.  Instead of buying and shipping gifts to one another, most of us have agreed not to buy anything. If we have the money, we’ll give a donation to an organization instead, in honor of the people we love.  (And some of us don’t have the money.  That’s okay, too, or better than okay.)

Even though giving is a treasured part of Christmas for me, there’s part of the gift rush I won’t miss.  Do you do this, too?

“OK, I bought Jenny earrings worth $15.  But Susan doesn’t wear earrings, and her bracelet only cost $11.  What can I get her to even it out?  This star ornament?  Will Jenny care that Susan gets two gifts, while she only has one?  Better get one more for Jenny, maybe a smaller ornament to go with Susan’s larger one…”

In writing, and put in as many words, that really looks ridiculous!

The whole idea, is that Jenny and Susan are special enough to express that they are loved.  Taking time to select gifts that remind me of them, is one of many ways to communicate that.  But it’s easy to fall into the trap of somehow thinking that how much we spend, equals the amount of love!

What I treasure about today won’t be measurable in money.  It’s a gloriously sunny day in Long Beach.  My bus will go past the marina, with its views of the ocean in the distance.  There are going to be all kinds of imaginative decorations in my favorite small business, which features the work of all kinds of independent artists.  And as the sun sets, I get to go home to someone I love.

On top of all that, it’s Giving Tuesday–and you’re rich if you can give to someone else.

A very Happy December first to you, and Merry Christmas!  May it be a wonderful one.

 

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by Noella Noelophile®

We were G-minus thirty minutes.

“Yikes!  Snow is in the paper towels!”

“G”, of course, stands for “guests”.   Tables had to be set, cookies had to be plated, nuts weren’t in the bowls yet.   And kitty had just expressed her displeasure at all the preparations by shredding a roll of towels, all over the carpet. ..

“Hang on,” called my loving spouse.  “I’ll get the camera.”

We wound up doing what any couple in their right minds would do.

You guessed it–laughing hysterically.  Just before we cleaned up the cat-manufactured “confetti” in the living room.

And we had a very Happy Thanksgiving.  Hope you had the same.

 

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by Noella Noelophile®

“Trick or treat!”

That’s something we’re looking forward to hearing, this evening. And how trick-or-treating has changed since we pulled on those rubber masks and went door-to-door, ‘way back when!

As a kid growing up in the 1960s, if Halloween fell on a Saturday, you were golden.  Because, as soon as it was about 9 am or so, our East Coast neighborhood was fair game.

Up and down the streets we went, ringing every doorbell.   Some people came to their doors, some didn’t–and that’s when you said, “Trick or treat!”  And you’d get anything from a mini candy bar to those chalky candy cigarettes (remember those?) to one “mean” old woman who never failed to open her door with a “Please, go away!”  (That was scary to all the kids back then.   Today, I can’t help but wonder what her story was.)

And, once you had your bag of candy, you went home.  Who knew how many other trick-or-treaters were stopping by your house.  You gave till the candy ran out–usually, by evening, because your parents knew to buy a lot!  Then, you turned the lights off, ignored the doorbell–and prayed anyone else who came to the door didn’t have chalk.

Because, on the East Coast, the “trick” part of “trick or treat” wasn’t just a figure of speech.  Outdoor pumpkins got smashed, eggs wound up on cars, and trick-or-treaters who didn’t get candy after dark often didn’t hesitate to draw caricatures or write unflattering assessments on your sidewalk.   (Not exactly the “good old days”!)

So–now that we’re in candy-giving mode, on the opposite coast?  What a change.

Our first Halloween Saturday here, we stocked up on candy, thinking we’d have a steady stream of young, costumed “customers”.  Halloween dawned sunny and pleasant, and we were up and waiting.

And waiting–until the sun set.

Then, we noticed, neighbors who wanted trick-or-treaters would have their porch lights on.   Outside our door, after our own porch light went on, we heard, “Trick or Treat!” before the doorbell rang.  Upon answering the door, we were greeted with about ten small hands, each trying to take two or three of the best pieces of candy.  (Some things never change!)  Meanwhile, a change we observed, that was much for the better since our own trick-or-treat days, was the tall, shadowy parental figures, waiting at the end of the walk, with virtually every group.

And as eight o’clock approached, we looked up and down the street.  The trick-or-treaters had gone home.  Like our neighbors, we turned off our lights and went in to watch our favorite scary movies–while attempting to do something about the surplus of candy.  Our dentist will either be delighted or horrified!

Once the porch light was off, our doorbell didn’t ring once.  The following morning, when we took a walk around our neighborhood, there were no chalk drawings, no eggs on the sidewalk, and any outdoor pumpkin decorations remained intact.

Perhaps I’m comparing apples with oranges, when holding up twenty-first century Halloween in California to the Eastern Halloweens of my long-ago childhood.  But it seems to me Halloween has become a lot more fun, if considerably shorter.

Happy Halloween, and BOO! to you.  And would you like some candy?  I think we bought too much.

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by Noella Noelophile®

Guess who bought a poinsettia today.

As much as I grumble about the full-on onslaught of Christmas merchandise in the stores before Halloween?  Yes, I did weaken.  So, you may as well get the benefits of my experience.

Now, it’s not a REAL poinsettia, thankfully.  I haven’t gone around the bend that far.

But, shopping in a great artists’ area of San Juan Capistrano, I did see just the right Christmas-themed garden stake for someone on my Christmas 2015 list.  And this area is a relatively new “find” for me.  If you go to the Metrolink station in San Juan Capistrano, cross the tracks (carefully and listening for bells, of course!), you’ll find yourself headed towards historic Los Rios Street–an enchanting lane of small businesses, independently-owned restaurants and galleries.

Hang a right if you happen to be doing early Christmas shopping (who isn’t?).  You’ll have your choice of at least five different gift shop/gallery venues.  Favorites I’ve found include The Cottage Gallery, displaying creations that include original acrylic paintings (and art prints for those of us on a blogger’s budget), fused-glass lamps, and a variety of gorgeous earrings.  The Nest is also well worth a look, with their garden and outdoor-patio gifts outside and boutique fashion accessories in the shop itself.

But, the garden-stake poinsettias are at Las Catrinas Mexican Folk Art and Handcrafts.  And these are both festive and imaginative: red metal petals, green metal leaves and jingle-bell cyathia (or centers, if you’re less horticulturally-inclined!).  They were absolutely perfect for a certain special recipient.

Buying one Christmas gift on a beautiful, 70-degree October afternoon  is kind of like munching on one peanut.   So my visit to Las Catrinas concluded with a bag filled with colorful Mexican pottery, to go with the poinsettia.   Las Catrinas, the proprietor said, has been open in the area for just over a year.  They are a treasure trove of tinware, silver, Mexican pottery ranging from cute mini-animals (I really liked the fox!) to breathtakingly beautiful garden ornaments, stained glass and more.

So, OK.  If I’m going to be buying Christmas-themed items in October, at least it’s in support of a new independent establishment.  Plus, it’s a unique gift that, in all probability, will sell out long before the Thanksgiving turkey makes its appearance.

 

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by Noella Noelophile®

The morning started with a scare.  But not the fun kind.

Getting ready to leave, I saw my cat, Snuggles, poke her head out from the curtains in the dining-room window.   That’s not unusual.

Then, about ten minutes later, neither of us had seen her–and it was breakfast time.  And we realized we were hearing “outdoor” sounds, from…

…that dining-room window.

We checked the window, which we’d thought we’d closed–to find we’d left it open, AND the screen was pushed away from the bottom.  Panic mode ensued.Snuggles,has been an indoor cat all her life, and there are coyotes in our area.  Not to mention that it was six a.m.–the time all our neighbors start getting into their cars and leaving for work.  Oh, and did I mention that Tuesday’s trash day in our neighborhood?

My husband and I grabbed cat treats and dashed out the door, circled the house calling, “Kitty, kitty,” and walked around the block with a flashlight.  (Looking for a black cat, in predawn, is really fun…not.)  There was no sign of her.

I cancelled lunch plans with a friend.  My husband debated staying home, but really needed to be at work today.  Neighbors were alerted, local Animal Services were called (Snuggles is microchipped) and I registered us online as having a lost pet.

Getting any work done was impossible.   Finally, I went to find some shoes and take another walk around our neighborhood–praying I wouldn’t find a huddled ball of black fur, in the wake of a tragedy.Then…”mieuw.“.   And guess who strolled into the room, as nonchalantly as you please, requesting breakfast.

I’ll never know how my husband and I didn’t find her in the house–OR how she didn’t jump out that open window.  Or, where her new hiding place is!  But we’re very thankful this morning, and giving our cat some extra cat treats and hugs.

And as little as we like to do this, somebody’s going to wear a cat collar in the future.  Much as she may hate it,  losing her would be something we’d hate, even more.

 

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by Noella Noelophile®

This morning’s brunch served as a reminder.

Eating at one of our favorite local spots, my husband and I were reminded how one person’s attitude–good or bad–can make a difference.

When we went into our cafe, we noticed some gritty spots and goo on the table.  Prior to ordering, I asked, with a smile, if someone could clean it for us.

Ten minutes later, as an unfamiliar server took our order, we asked again.

Turning to my husband, about ten minutes after that, I threatened to request a sponge and clean the table myself if we had to ask a third time.  When our food came, though, my husband had a better idea.

Picking up the plate before it could touch the gooey table, he told our waitress (heretofore known as “Ms. A.”, for “attitude”) that we would hold our plates until the table was clean.

Well, Ms. A. was clearly not thrilled.She did come back with a cloth, gave the table several swipes in front of my husband (um, I was there, too?), then left.   For the remainder of our meal, her behavior indicated that she would be glad to see the backs of us.  She failied to ask the customary, “Is everything all right?”  after we’d started eating.  Nor did she return with straws for our beverages.  She did make two reappearances–once, to slam my husband’s order of toast down without a word, and once, as we finished eating, to ask, “Do you guys need anything else?”

(I translated that to mean, “Get out of my sight!”)

We were glad to comply–after leaving less than our normal twenty-percent tip.  Attitude is expensive!  My husband said Ms. A.’s perfunctory cleaning of the table still left grit and goo where he was sitting, and he had to bite back a, “Seriously?!?”

Both my husband and I have worked in customer-service capacities.  We can appreciate the frustrations of dealing with the public–as well as the fact that Ms. A. had to work a full shift on a beautiful, sunny Sunday, while we could linger over breakfast.  Been there, done that!But–while each of us was “being there and doing that”, we had to keep one thing in mind. While the customer may not “always be right”, reasonable requests and complaints aren’t the same as a personal affront.

Ms. A.’s put-upon attitude came in sharp contrast to a great customer-service experience I had, about a year ago in San Francisco.  Taking an early flight, I arrived at my hotel hours prior to their official check-in time.  The desk clerk would have been entirely reasonable to have said, “Sorry, ma’am, check-in is four hours from now.”

Instead, he checked me right in with a smile–and proved an invaluable resource, for the rest of my stay, with information about great restaurants in the Mission District and areas in which walking would be safe–or not.  His kindness and willingness to “go the extra mile” not only made my day, but set the tone for a fantastic trip

We’ll come back to our cafe, where our regular server always makes us feel welcome, with a smile and the sense that he enjoys working with us.  (We’re not complete curmudgeons, after all!)   We’ll also remember the lesson Ms. A. unwittingly taught.  Her snarky attitude changed a normally-pleasant experience into one where we couldn’t wait to leave.

Somehow, we suspect we may not be seeing much more of Ms. A. in the future.

 

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by Noella Noelophile®

Wednesday morning had an interesting start.

Lying in bed just after sunrise, we heard, CRASH!  CRASH!–followed by a series of metallic sounds like a giant knocking over a row of soda cans.

Looking out the window, we saw–a car that had driven up on our neighbor’s porch!  With part of the metallic railing knocked out, it was resting on a palm tree, windshield wipers moving back and forth.

Thankfully, no one was injured.  It was early enough in the morning that no dog walkers, joggers, bikers etc. were in the area.  The driver, looking stunned, came out of his vehicle to make a cell phone call.  Police and neighbors arrived, verified everyone was fine and left.

And our neighbor turned to the driver who’d just driven up on his porch and asked, “Would you like a cup of coffee?”

This Thanksgiving, I’m thankful for a lot of wonderful things: my husband, our families, the great trip we just had to the Bay Area, our health, our careers and the amazing community spirit of all the artists with whom I get to speak, year-round.   But it also strikes me that getting to live in a community where, when someone gets awakened by a car on his porch just after six a.m., his first thought is to offer the driver coffee, is truly something special.

A very Happy Thanksgiving to you!  May your Thanksgiving weekend be filled with exactly that kind of grace, hospitality and joy.

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by Noella Noelophile®

I’m doing something scary this Halloween.

Something completely new, that has nothing to do with haunts, costumes, candy or any of the traditional Halloween experiences.

I’m promoting my first book.  And have no idea if you’ll like it.  BUT–

If you would like to take a peek, tomorrow, November 1 through Monday, November 3, I’ll be offering my “Noelophile®’s Twelve Meditations of Christmas” for free download, on Amazon.

Isn’t it funny how “firsts” are scary–and exciting at the same time?  Kind of like adventure sports, where you have that “uh-oh” moment just before you slide down the ski hill or leap off the diving board.

Halloween is, in fact, a special anniversary for me.  More years ago than I like to tell you, it was the date I left a “make-the-rent” job for the last time, to concentrate on completing my studies for my “dream profession”.  I remember walking through the parking lot after 5 pm, looking up at the moon and thinking, “This is either the craziest thing I’ve ever done–or the sanest.”  I had no idea if things would work out, or not.

Thank goodness–they did.

So, a very Happy Halloween to you!  Take a look if you’d like to and if you have time, and may your “uh-oh” moments, in going for your dreams, be followed by a, “Wow!  I’m so glad I did that!”

 

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by Noella Noelophile®

Want to know how truly “spoiled” we are?   Try going without something we take for granted.

This weekend, we had that opportunity.

Our local power company shut off power, for maintenance, for twenty-four hours.  It happened on Friday night, so, in theory, should not have resulted in any problems.

Reality was another matter.  On Saturday and Sunday, repair trucks were plying the streets of our neighborhood–as no one had any Internet service!

So, I now have some amends to make.First of all, to the gifted and talented artisans of Handmade in the South Bay–whose first Spring Boutique I’d planned to promote.   Without even the ability to tweet, I can only tell you that it was fantastic–two rooms in El Segundo’s Joslyn Center filled with needlecrafters, soapmakers, quilters, jewelry designers and generally cool stuff.  They also held a raffle for a great cause–all their raffle proceeds went to benefit San Pedro-based Packages for Patriots.

I look forward to telling you all about the NEXT amazing event they’ll be hosting!.

Secondly, to the organizers of Artisanal LA.   

This is an incredible event, held at the L.A. Mart and focusing mainly on artisan foods, but also featuring crafts by some amazing artists.   While they were kind enough to invite me to cover their Spring Show this weekend–guess who never saw the “invite”, due to the cranky Internet?

So, I look forward to alerting you, the minute they announce the dates for their FALL show.  Save a weekend (usually in October), as well as room for some truly delectable items like freshly baked bread and hand-dipped chocolates–just for starters. 

And, finally, to YOU–for not getting to put the word out on this incredible weekend before all of this happened.  So, I look forward to telling you all about the upcoming spring and summer craft-related events–starting right off with the Patchwork Show, which kicks off its season in Oakland on May 11th before heading to Long Beach, two weeks later!

Internet–it’s great to have you back.

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by Noella Noelophile™

“O-kay.  What’d I forget?”

That’s a question I always ask, when expecting guests for a Christmas celebration.

As the platters of cookies sit waiting, beverages chill and the gifts await, I’m wondering: is there a detail we’ve overlooked, that will make something special even more fun?

And that is the question I’d like to ask you now.

With my Noelophile™ coverage of Christmastime events in California, is there a special, non-denominational (and preferably, free or low-cost) community event you really enjoy, about which you’d like me to know?  Maybe an every-year tradition you and your family would never dream of missing–or a resource that will be helpful to everyone when we start preparing for Christmas 2014?

Shoot me a quick e-mail at noelophile@gmail.com and let me know–and thank you for visiting!

 

 

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By Noella Noelophile ™

Wow.  For something that stores start pushing in mid-October–does this Christmas seem to have flown?

The day itself was beautiful, with lots of smiling people going by with packages and wishing “Merry Christmas!”  But after Christmas breakfast, a walk and opening some cards, it just seemed to go zoom!

It’s always a little bittersweet to see the sunset, on Christmas Day.  Once again, the festivities are over and we’re back to everyday, ordinary life.  Or, are we?

I really love the British tradition that Christmas isn’t truly over until January 6th–Twelfth Night.  As I was growing up, one of the nearby churches gave out a calendar, with different dates marked off.  After December 25th was a line over the following week, with a beautiful word: “Christmastide”.  So, according to that calendar, each day after Christmas still maintained the glow that made Christmas special.

In my life, I have tried to observe “Christmastide” whenever possible, and to know that Christmas, in many ways, is never truly over.

So, from now through January first, I’ll be posting information on Christmas events happening in California, that you might enjoy, and that continue into January.  If you didn’t get a chance to see lights, go ice-skating or check out a special event, due to all the festivities happening all at once–now is your opportunity to experience them.

Know a special, non-denominational event that celebrates Christmas anytime before Twelfth Night?  You’re welcome to e-mail, at noelophile@gmail.com!

 

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by Noella Noelophile™

,,,guess what’s going to be here.

It may be early, but here’s a question for you.  What would really make Christmas, 2013, the merriest, for you and the people most important in your life?

Maybe it will be a lot like the fun part of Halloween.

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by Noella Noelophile™

Believe this or not–some people still think black cats bring bad luck.  Or, that they’re boring.

Our little one, Jet, comments: “Mieuw.”

Loosely translated, I think she’s saying, “They’re crazy.”

After living with her for more than two years, we can only conclude that we were very lucky to walk by her cage, in the local shelter, at the point when we were ready to adopt another cat.   We’ve been in love ever since.

Jet has a tendency to let everyone know who’s in charge.  She won’t drink milk if it’s in a bowl on the floor.  However, just place your mug on the floor, and–

Lick, lick, lick.   We think, perhaps, the whole “bowl” thing is just too easy for her liking.  And should you happen to have a bowl of cereal with milk, you now have a (purring) friend.)  (So far, she seems to prefer Cheerios.)

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“You missed the soap bubble!  It went right past you.”

My husband and I had been taking a walk around our neighborhood.  It was a glorious, sunny late-summer morning, with just the right amount of coolness to make walking pleasant.

And until he made that comment, I hadn’t realized–I was just walking through it.  My mind was chattering with about a dozen “to-do’s”–while indeed, there was someone blowing a series of soap bubbles from a back yard we’d passed.  One of the fragile, rainbow-y iridescent globes had just sailed past me, unnoticed.

My response, of course, was, “Well, that’s why I have you.  To make me notice the soap bubbles.”  And it is–because my husband has a tendency to help me slow down and appreciate the beautiful and more “fun” things in life.

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by Noella Noelophile™

“Honk!  Honk!”

That’s not a particularly uncommon sound for a  Southern California morning.  The only unusual thing was the source!

No idea where these three came from.  Flocks of wild parrots are common in Pasadena, with one local story attributing them to a long-ago pet shop fire that resulted in escaped birds and numerous squawking descendants.   But Canadian geese?

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by Noella Noelophile™

“Ohhh, these just aren’t turning out right!”

That was my thought, early this morning, while decorating these Easter cupcakes for a family get-together.

As you see, they’re not gourmet specialties.  I’d seen the designs for them online, thought them extremely cute, and baked up a couple of boxes of cake mix.  Then, when the alarm clock rang at the un-Saturdayish hour of six this morning, the plan was to ice the cupcakes and decorate them as perfect, professional-looking bunnies, chicks and flowers.   Make them look like they belonged on a magazine cover, courtesy of a professional caterer?  Sure, no problem!

Uh-huh.

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by Noella Noelophile™

Growing up in the 1960’s, I remember the Weekly Reader.

This was a two-page “newspaper” for grade-schoolers, with articles about current events and scientific advances.   One, that appeared in about 1966, sticks in my mind.  The general gist of this particular piece was that by the time we grew up, computers would be doing everything–and our days would be filled with leisure time.

(Are you rolling on the floor at this point?)

Today we’re: posting, Facebooking, tweeting, texting, e-mailing, and a variety of other social-media activities–and that’s before our workdays start!

It seems that taking time to do something we enjoy makes us feel almost guilty!  “Lost time…if I spend the morning in the library that’s three posts I could have done...who’s going to do this…and that…and that….the clock is ticking, that deadline’s coming up…and so forth, and so on.   And somehow, when your work is in a creative field, there’s also the sense of, “This is work I love, why can’t I do it all the time?   Don’t I appreciate having this opportunity?”

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by Noella Noelophile™

“What were the mistakes you made, a month ago?  Do you remember them?”

“Um…”

“Exactly.”

That’s a dialogue my husband and I had, just recently–and he’s right.   (Don’t tell him I said that!–Just kidding.)

So, why are we so tough on ourselves when we do make mistakes?  Intellectually, we know they happen to everybody.  Yet, when we realize we’ve made one–large or small–we get that sick feeling in the pit of our stomachs!

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by Noella Noelophile™

The number-one way to guarantee that a cat will do something?  (One of the few?)  Two simple words:

“No, kitty!”

In our house, those words have preceded feline bounds onto the washing machine, small whiskered heads poking into the nearest dinner plate, and soft paws probing the computer keyboard and creatively rearranging a painstakingly-written document.

Problem is, our two current feline supervisors have the “angel cat” routine down to a science.   We’ll return from a trip to the store to find half the draperies hanging precariously from our windows, a bowl in the middle of the floor, and our year-old black kitty, Jet, looking up at us in wide-eyed innocence.

“Mieuw?”  (We can almost see her halo!)

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by Noella Noelophile™

When you meet her on the street, she’s always smiling.  She’s out for a brisk walk,  never fails to comment that “it’s a beautiful day!”, and gives the impression of having enjoyed every moment of her eighty-plus years.

Just seeing her is enough to make you smile…and you  hope she’ll continue on in her vigorous, sunny way until she’s at least a hundred.

Her name?  Her history?   Despite seeing her often, I don’t know them–and probably never will.   But what a life-brightener she is.

We’ve all had people who changed our lives radically.   There were teachers who made us think differently about our abilities; supervisors or associates who challenged us, for good or otherwise; role models who lived a different perspective.

But…what about the people who have an almost-accidental effect on our lives?

One morning in Southern California’s mid-Wilshire area, we were having a torrential rain.  Commuters were climbing the stairs from the subway, fumbling with umbrellas and hunching their shoulders against the unaccustomed bad weather.    It was chilly, gray, dripping…and one man, in the midst of all of us, suddenly belted out the first line of the 1960’s song, “It’s a Beautiful Morning.”

Smiles and laughter ensued…and suddenly, a little rain didn’t matter.

Like it or not, everyone affects everyone else around them, all the time–for good or evil.   A stranger’s thoughtless comment on the street can devastate a shy adolescent.    A co-worker’s encouragement…or skepticism, in the break room, can determine whether someone decides his or her dreams are too risky to pursue.  A favorite clerk’s story of a great vacation may get a customer thinking, “That’s where I want to go, next summer!”

And an author or artist you’ve never met, and may never meet, can speak to you as if you’re old friends.

What are the ways in which others’ “everyday” actions have had an effect on you?   And in what (possibly-accidental) ways do you make a difference to others in your day-to-day life?

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by Noella Noelophile™

O-kay.  Just because I’m Noelophile™…doesn’t mean there aren’t days like this.

This morning was something less than Christmas carols and soft lights.

A major miscommunication had happened with a colleague.   An unexpected meeting got scheduled for midday.   So, time to drop everything and commute–on my only free day prior to a deadline.  Meanwhile, we’ve just returned from a trip…which meant missing the deadline to buy a new monthly bus pass.  As a nondriver, those $1.50 fares, each time, add up pretty quickly!

So…attempted to add value to my fare card.  Coming up a dollar short of the specified $5 block, meant putting in a bill…and having the machine spit out a quantity of $1 coins in change.  You know the type–the ones no one accepts willingly in payment, because they don’t look real!

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At the climactic scene of A Christmas Carol, a repentant Scrooge begs the Ghost of Christmas Yet to Come for one more chance.

“I will honor Christmas in my heart,” he sobs, “and try to keep it all the year!”

Sound like anybody you know?

As Noelophile™ continues, we’ll tell you some of the stories of people who have the  Christmas spirit, year-round–not just from Thanksgiving weekend till January 6th.

And if there’s anyone whose name you’d like to suggest, feel free to send us an e-mail and tell us!

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by Noella Noelophile™

As a teenager, my least favorite time of all…was about 6 p.m. on December 25th.

Why?  Because…on Christmas night, Christmas was as far away as it could get, all year long!

It seemed like it all ended too fast.  Once December 26th showed up, the lovely glow was gone.  People vacuumed up tinsel, threw away wrapping paper and trudged back into everyday life.  And I just wanted to snuggle back into Christmas and draw it around me like a warm quilt!

But…the “Twelve Days of Christmas” actually begin on December 25th!  And the week between Christmas and New Year’s Day is “Christmastide” (isn’t that a beautiful word?), with Christmas technically ending on January 6th, Twelfth Night.

With that in mind, I’ll be posting some special events here, designed to make the festive times last, through January 6th.

Know of a special Christmas celebration in the California area, that happens after December 25th?  I’d love to know about it!

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“Christmas just won’t be the same without…”

Those can be some painful words to have to say.

I remember, growing up, how we’d always go to my grandmother’s house in Wilmington, Delaware, to spend Christmas.  The hurried trip to Penn Station, in Manhattan, was always a major production.  We’d catch the  “Pennsy” and leave New York–usually after sunset, so we’d see the Christmas lights all along the way.

And when we heard the conductor call, “WILLLMIINNGGGTONNNN!”, and de-trained in a flurry of suitcases and shopping bags full of packages, there would be my favorite uncle, waiting on the platform to drive us to my grandmother’s.   To this day, I still feel Christmasy when I walk through a train station that’s decked out in Christmas wreaths and filled with people traveling to see their families.

Except–when I was fourteen–things changed.

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by Noella Noelophile™

By now, you’re probably hearing it all over the place: “Happy Holidays!”

Except…you won’t hear it from me.

In my opinion, “Merry Christmas” is one of the most beautiful phrases in the English language.  After all, when else do we use the word “merry” in a sentence?  And when did it get to be offensive to wish someone well, and voice a hope that that person is healthy, at a place that is peaceful in his or her life, and enjoying this beautiful season?

To me, “Happy Holidays” sounds generic, impersonal and antiseptic.  Kind of like going to a Christmas parade–and then staying behind a thick glass wall, for fear of catching cold, having mud splashed on you, or falling victim to any other far-fetched perils.  Sure, you can see the celebration–but you’re not committing to it wholeheartedly.  To me, a wish of “Happy Holidays” loses about ninety per cent of the “festive” element!

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My Christmas ornament collection began the year I was twenty.

At that point, I was in my second year of college, and looking at (someday) having a place of my own that wasn’t a dorm room.

So on December 26th, after all the festivities, I took a shopping trip to downtown Wilmington, and walked through the pedestrian mall.  And there it was, in a gift store: a cute drummer boy with that year’s date.  It was half-price, and the thought occurred to me: “Why not?  That will be great on my Christmas tree!”

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This is it!  December first!  Hooray!!!

Don’t know about you, but I love the first of December.  It’s a completely magical time, where I can feel the enchantment of the oncoming festivities–somehow without all the “frantic.”

Usually, my favorite thing to do on December first is go to a local coffee shop with an outdoor plaza.  I’ll sit sipping a latte as people go by, and see all kinds of fun things.  A man walks by in a Christmas tree hat, for example…or a shopper zooms past on inline skates with a dog on a leash and a bunch of packages (hey, this IS Southern California!)

One tradition I really love, is that on December first, our decorating begins.  I put out one ornament…and that’s it.  With another one to come the next day, and the next…

…And by December 24th, we’re pretty well decorated!  That really works well for our busy California lives, fitted around work, school, and general creative pursuits.

What is YOUR December first like?  Hope it’s a merry one!

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by Noella Noelophile™

“Aaaaah, it’s seven twenty-two?  Eeeeeeek!”

Believe it or not, I just heard those words come out of MY mouth!  And we’re talking about seven twenty-two a.m., not p.m.!

Then, my loving spouse contributed, “You’ll look up, and it will be Christmas!”  Thank you, dear…

It’s amazing how busy everyone is, anyway, in everyday life.  Then, if you’re anything like me, the Christmas season “officially” arrives…and, POW!  It’s crammed full of places we blithely agreed to be, and things we need to do.  All these plans, of course, have been made for some future fictitious era when we’ll have lots of time.  And that time will, without exception, consist of hours that magically expand to accommodate us, so we can accomplish everything!

I haven’t yet figured out how to get enough time to do all the things I’d like to, at Christmastime (or indeed, any other time!), and still have time to enjoy it all.   Here are the best tips I can offer:

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Okay–tomorrow is Thanksgiving!  And Black Friday is upon us…as is Small Business Saturday (my personal favorite) and a host of offerings for your Christmas gift-giving.

Now, we know Christmas has never been about sales and buying.  But part of the fun is thinking of someone you love, and then finding something–sometimes unexpectedly–that “says that person’s name” to you.

With that in mind, let’s talk about some of the ways to elicit the remark, “Wow, you’re a great gift giver!”  (And, more importantly, how to make your recipients happy because you love them!  Simplistic and corny, maybe–but there it is.)

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by Noella Noelophile™

Here’s something to scare you.  When you hear “Trick or Treat!” outside your door…there are fifty-five days left till Christmas Day.

And they seem like many, many less.

Eeeeeeeeeekkkk!

It’s interesting to me, to see churches shy away from Halloween, calling it the “devil’s holiday.”  Growing up in the church in the 1960’s, I remember our church basement being the site of many Halloween parties.  Girl Scouts, all the Sunday School classes, and our youth group all had their chance to eat candy corn and bob for apples.  No one ever saw it as anything more than a reason to have fun and dress up in silly costumes.

In fact, one year, one of the choir members, who was a talented actor, dressed up in a witch’s costume and made a guest appearance.  She was a big hit, coming in with a witchy “Ha ha ha ha ha!” and staying for a few minutes to talk about her cat, her broomstick, and her spells.  Her best improvisational response?  One of the children asked her if she could fly.  Thinking quickly, she responded, “Not while I’m near a church.  But once I get away from the church, I can fly!”

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