Delightful Little Things

 I'm not sure how it happened, but I found myself perusing pans on Amazon.com. Specifically, Nordic Ware pans. 

SO DELIGHTFUL.

The very idea, being able to make cakes in so many spectacular shapes. 

Feeling Halloween-y? You can make skeletons; tombstones; a haunted manor, even. 

Is Valentine's Day special to you? Try some heart cakelets, or a heart bundt. 

Know someone who loves trains? They have trains, too. Or maybe you would prefer dinosaurs? There are dinosaurs.

Would flowers be better? There are flowers. Perhaps rosebuds in particular? Or just a big rose bundt? 

Do you need a beehive? Sweet.

How about a pine forest bundt pan? SURE THING. 

There are endless winter holiday pans: snowflakes, winter-themed mini loaves, gingerbread people. And nutcrackers, too. Even a snowman!

Bunnies. BUNNIES! (I might feel a little bad eating a bunny-shaped cake.) 

So many beautiful bundt pans. Like this one, for example. 

-----

I don't actually need any of these pans. I have more than enough  pans for baked goods (including, in fact, a lovely pan to make insect-shaped muffins). There is something so very aesthetically pleasing about all of these pans, though, that it is marvelous just to look at them.

I might get this one anyway. It will be perfect for pumpkin bread. 

You can find this pan here:

https://smile.amazon.com/gp/product/B075HJGHKN/

Old Book

Ah, the bliss of a beautiful book -- this Nature Atlas of America, from ages ago. I shall admire it, page by careful page, over time. Behold, a mere sampling of all that is wonderful of this book:

The cover.

The face plate.

Minerals.

Trees.

Birds.

Fish.

Amphibians and reptiles.

Insects.

And mammals. 

Isn't it wonderful? Lovely.
(Edited 9-26-2017 at 9:20 PM to correct the 'minerals' photo.)

The Treasured of Treasures

Herself speaks.

Beloved Husband and I have an opportunity to go away for a few days. Since we'll have housesitters (to whom we are grateful, for they will look after Tiny Dog and Elderly Three-Toothed Dog and Offspring the Third nicely), I've taken the precaution of putting away Things that are important to me.  My Treasured Treasures. Most would mean nothing else to anyone else (other than the passport, of course, which is clearly valuable item); yet they are some of the few material objects that I hold dear. While it's unlikely any harm would come to them, they are so very close to my heart that I do not want anyone except for those closest to me to touch them.

Stay safe, my Things.

What Is Mine

Herself speaks.

I'm having an issue. It relates to the people whom I am comfortable having in my house.

Certain people -- Beloved Husband, the Offspring, Cherished Friend, certain family members (my Safe People) -- enlarge the joy of my house.  In contrast, there is another particular type of person -- the Particular Person -- about whom the very thought of their presence in my house yields an incomprehensible, visceral, fight-or-flight reaction.

When visiting, this type of Particular Person will, as usual, start more than one sentence with, "I noticed that...," followed by some commentary: on the inadequacy of my home (e.g., it needs paint) or my possessions (e.g., my couch is well-used) or my clothes (e.g., too informal). Any sentence that starts with "I noticed that" always makes my inwardly cringe and brace myself for the criticism that follows. Yet this is not the crux of the matter -- it's an irritant, but not unusual or noteworthy.

Rather, the problem is: I have my Treasures in my house. A Particular Person's presence among my Treasures -- especially if I am not here to  protect them -- puts them at risk.

It's not that I'm overly attached to my Things. It's that my Things will not be afforded the respect they deserve. They may be rearranged in a manner that the Particular Person feels is somehow more suitable. They may be damaged, because their value and the need for careful handling may be ignored. Their importance may be minimized, dismissed, or even mocked. Terrible. As I have said before, our Things are part of who we are. It's ever so important not to scoff at another's Things - to do so is to ridicule pieces of a person, and that is an unacceptable unkindness.

The physical presence of Particular Person here in my home, puts into danger all the pieces of comfort and happiness with which I have feathered my nest. It's a danger that I cannot prevent, and must tolerate.

It renders my Safe Place unsafe.

I will have to rely on the help of my Safe People to get through. I hope that they will understand. 

Consolations

I am reading Consolations: The Solace, Nourishment, and Underlying Meaning of Everyday Words, by David Whyte. Although the title itself is a wee bit... wordy, the work is an excellent collection of brief essays on particular words. The prose is reminiscent of John O'Donohue's Anam Cara: A Book of Celtic Wisdom (an especially lovely work, close to my heart, as you well know from my mentionings of it here) -- in fact, I selected Consolations because Amazon.com suggested it when I recently purchased several other books by John O'Donohue. Well done, Amazon.

I have decided that rather than read straight through from beginning to end, I'll select the words individually each evening when I read before bedtime. In due course I shall bring my thoughts on those words here as well.

What a wonderful book.

Bowl of Rocks

Today's treasure: the bowl of rocks.

The bowl resides near the miniature zen garden that was a gift from her sister. Herself loves the feel of the stones, the colors, the polished sheen.  Perhaps it's time to select a stone each morning to keep in her pocket, to soothe as the day goes by.

A Whole Shelf

In the kitchen, there are several decorative shelves.  One of them is chock-full of treasures of the whole nuclear family.

If you look closely, you can see Veggie Tales characters, shells, desert roses, a small plastic skull, a wooden tulip, a clay model of Texas as well as a labeled model of a slice through the earth, a glass bottle of multicolored sand, wooden and metal animals of various sizes and colors, and so much more.

So many treasures.

Necklace

Today's treasure: the charms of Herself's necklace.

First, her mother's mother's wedding ring, to remind her of family roots;
Second, a silver pacifier, which she bought on Martha's Vineyard as a teenager, to remind her of childhood;
Third, a white and silver charm bearing the word "sister," to remind her of the comfort, understanding and love that her sister brings;
Fourth, a column bearing five tiny amber blocks in a range of beautiful colors, to remind her of the simultaneous commonality and uniqueness of the members of her nuclear family;
Fifth, a Celtic knot charm, to remind her of anam cara; and
Sixth, a Tibetan prayer wheel, to remind her to let go, and to find the middle path.

Dishes

Today's treasure, while not a small item, is nevertheless an important one:  grandmother's dishes.

These once belonged to Herself's paternal grandmother. Herself  loves the pattern. She does not use the dishes terribly often, because they are almost too exceptional to hold mere ordinary food. Perhaps she should generate more special occasions to use them.

Wombat

Today's treasure: wombat.

When Herself attended childbirth preparation class before Offspring the First was hatched, one of the many suggestions -- in addition to the ultimately rather useless breathing exercises -- was to have a focal point on which to concentrate during contractions.  For reasons that Herself cannot remember, they chose a small stuffed wombat that had been a souvenir from Herself's parents' trip to Australia.  

Wombat attended the labor and births for all three Offspring (although he was not in the immediate room at the time of the emergency C-section for Offspring the third). He was indeed helpful.

Good job, wombat.

Binkie

As we were tidying, we came across various small items dispersed throughout the house, and thought that we should perhaps return to treasures.

Today's treasure:  Herself's childhood blanket.  It is translucent in its threadbare thinness, and the pastel kittens and flowers are so faded as to be barely visible.  Ah, binkie.

Red Car

Today's treasure: the red car. It must be nearly four decades old now.  Vrooom!

Green Hat

Today's treasure: a green pilot's cap. 

When Herself was tiny, she apparently had this green pilot cap that she loved.  While Herself does not remember wearing or enjoying this hat, her mother has indicated that the cap was perpetually upon Herself's head when she was young.  Mother's favorite story involves a plane trip; in days of yore, people would dress up to travel by air, and Herself wore her fancy smocked dress, tights, and party shoes -- and the hat. That must have been quite a sight.

Tiny Dog thinks the green pilot cap might be tasty. 

Pillowcase

Today's treasure: a flowered pillowcase.

When Herself was very small - somewhere well under ten years old - she had sheets and a bedspread, and even curtains, with these flowers. Red, yellow, orange and blue, with green leafy highlights. She loved them.

I'm not certain how the pillowcase survived four decades, particularly without any sheet companions remaining, but all that we have now is this lone pillowcase.  The colors are still vibrant.  It makes us happy.

Treasures

We all have collections of possessions that hold meaning for us. Ordinary items -- a ticket stub, a pressed flower, a small stone -- that we have kept, for reasons that are undefined but clearly existent. These are our Things. Our Things are part of who we are.  It's ever so important not to scoff at another's Things - to do so is to ridicule pieces of a person, and that is an unacceptable unkindness.

While helping pack up his house, we encountered many of Cherished Friend's Things.  One of his other friends humorously marked certain boxes containing Things with the label, Treasures. Beloved Husband marked other boxes of Things as Memorabilia. Whether Treasures or Memorabilia or some other classification, though, these Things are part and parcel of Cherished Friend's life.

It must have been difficult for Cherished Friend, who is a reserved and modest individual, to have other people -- even ones he knows well -- handling his Things. He kindly offered back-stories when Herself asked about some Things, providing a glimpse into the time before we met him. Herself tried very hard to accord all of the Things the dignity they deserved by packing them carefully and with respect. It was an honor to be allowed to help with the Things.

We thought that perhaps we'd take a stroll through some of our own Things this week, and see what we can find. We'll let you know.