The Yin and Yang of November

There have been a lot of words in my head since the first of this month concerning what I wanted to say about November.  However as the days went by, my thoughts changed from Pollyanna-ish to dark and back again.  I kept trying to think of a title that contained alliteration such as November Nuances or November in the North. In the middle of one night, the title The Dance of November came to me and I had a good lead paragraph, but I didn't write it down.  In the morning the title remained, but not a word of the paragraph showed up in my brain.

Not until yesterday afternoon, when I was walking across our lawn with the dog, did the right words pop into my head.  The sun was shining and everything seemed golden.  The lawn was bright green and the creek was rushing.  It felt good to be out in the nippy air with the dog by my side.

I sat on a bench by the creek and everything seemed right with the world.  The term yin and yang seemed to fit what my moods have been this month, but I had to do some research to make sure I was thinking of it correctly.  I was.  The term deals with opposites and this month is a reminder, especially this year, of what has happened in history in November.

In 1963 I was sitting in my senior English class with Mr. Hill who was substituting for our regular teacher.  The high school secretary came on the PA and said that President Kennedy had been shot and killed in Texas.  We all looked at each other and were speechless.  Mr. Hill gazed at all of us and said, "Let us pray."  We bowed our heads and the room was silent.

That weekend was one of being glued to our black and white television sets to catch all the news.  A high school dance was canceled along with college football games.  On Monday I went to my friend Jean's house to watch the funeral.  It was the beginning of a different time.  The innocence in our lives was gone.

November in many ways reminds me of March, with weather that can either be like a lamb or a lion.  The great lakes can get ferocious and such was the case on November 10, 1975 when the Edmund Fitzgerald went down in Lake Superior with all 29 crew members.  November has always been a treacherous time to be on the great lakes.  This month we had our first snow and then a wind storm with power outages, but it was nothing compared to the storm on Lake Superior in 1975.  The song by Gordon Lightfoot, The Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald tells the story of that ship wreck. 

November is a transition month when nature is at its most subtle.  The colors that wowed us in October have turned to a burnished brown.  Yet there are bits of color if we look closely. Red berries on dark branches, a last yellow leaf in the creek, the green of the pine trees or a bright scarf on a child.  There is a nip in the air, but there is a coziness to the house.  Knit lap blankets and quilts come out of the attic.  The fire in the wood burner radiates a special warmth.

 

 

The month gives me an excuse to cuddle up with a blanket and a cup of tea.  I like to read a book in a comfortable chair with a fire in the fireplace.  For me November is a peaceful month before the holidays hit with full force. 

I love the years when our family gathers at our house for Thanksgiving dinner.  It is my favorite holiday as there is a comfort in the good food and that we can all be together.  The grandchildren are growing and changing and on that day I am especially thankful for the part they play in our lives.

The yin and yang of the month is different for everyone.  Gray days and rain can be depressing.  Events in our lives that make us sad are the yin.  Thinking of life and its fullness can be up lifting and thus the yang.  November is a time to step back and see how we can stand up to the weather that blows our way.  We can not have light without shadow.  It is a part of who we are the lives we live. 

The Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald - Gordon Lightfoot

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9vST6hVRj2A
 

The need to unstuff my little world

There are minimalists, collectors, over collectors and hoarders.  When I watch American Pickers I see mostly men who have collected beyond their capacity to store their stuff. Yet they don't want to part with much.  I feel I may be in that category.  My attics are groaning with so many articles that are crying to be set free.

I started cleaning out an area in our basement and was determined to give things away to Good Will.  Before I let the box go out the door I had removed three things I thought were too good to part with.  Never mind that my shelves are so crowded that many of the vases I have collected over the years have to be set on the floor.  How did I get myself in such a mess?

It started with the first thing I remember collecting, small trinket boxes.  They were so cute and didn't take up much room.  Plus they were affordable.  My favorite was one I bought at a gift shop in the Hotel Chateau Frontenac in Quebec City.  

Later that collection seemed to be growing out of control so I went on to something else.  Violets!  Anything that was beautiful, like a porcelain plate, or a small painting of violets had to be mine.  Any piece of linen with violets seemed too beautiful to pass up also.  Two antique dealers that knew me started putting things aside, items that were painted with violets, and then asked me if I was interested in buying whatever they had saved.  How could I turn them down?

Before I knew it I had more violet things then I could display so I decided to be more eclectic.  My collecting then became anything I thought was beautiful.  Dishes were easy to find but then I became more selective within that category.  My husband showed me a video he used in teaching his German classes. It was about the Meissen Porcelain Factory in Germany and the hunt was on.  I found my first Meissen plate in a shop in Pentwater.  After that I searched eBay and found that people selling Meissen in the U.S. were not demanding the prices that Meissen was fetching in Europe.

My husband and I were in a shop in Munich years ago where all they sold was Meissen porcelain.  When we told the shop owner we were school teachers from America his demeanor changed.  Then he asked us, "How can school teachers afford Meissen?"  It ticked me off.  Actually all I could afford in his shop was a small cup and saucer; so we left without buying anything and I told him we may be back.  I wanted to buy something just to spite him, but then my common sense took over.  However over the years I have found affordable Meissen in America.

We went to the Augarten Porcelain factory in Vienna in 2007 and the porcelain in their factory shop was very beautiful and resembled the hand painted patterns of Meissen.  Augarten is also hand painted.  I bought a couple of small things and since then have found many bargains in America.  But my days of collecting porcelain have come to an end as well.  Now much of it is packed away in boxes as I have too many pieces to display.  And so it goes with my collecting bugs.

I'm not sure when it happened that I got interested in collecting vintage and European linens. I think it started when we took my husband's German students on four different trips to Europe.  In Switzerland, Austria and Germany I found shops with beautiful affordable embroidered tablecloths.  Those pieces were easy to bring back home and so it began.

But to tell the truth, I now feel overwhelmed with stuff.  My attics are screaming to be cleaned out and things sold or given away.  However that is easier said than done.  Like a hoarder, if someone tried to come in and just tell me to get rid of my stuff, I would protest.  I have boxes of treasures and trinkets from estate sales, auctions, antique shops and yard sales that have not seen the light of day for years.  Yet if I were to examine the contents I would find something of value and think I needed to keep whatever it was.

I cannot begin to purge everything through my antique booth at Silver Hills in Pentwater, yet I have this thought of impending doom that my children will curse me one day when they have to sort and sell and throw out.  Yet, in a way I feel a sense of mischievous glee that all the while they are doing that, they will sigh and think, "Oh mother dear...what were you thinking?"  They might forgo the "dear."  But they will eventually come to the end of it after months of hard work and delight that they have a few dollars to spend on whatever they want. 

My collecting has slowed down to a snail's pace, but I would be telling a lie if I said it had stopped all together.  Once a collector, always a collector.  I recently bought a vintage toy.  It has a small wooden horse which looks like a piece from an old puzzle hooked to a tin cart.  I filled the cart with small vintage bottle brush trees that I bought at the same antique mall where I got the toy.  I figured that after Christmas I could add the little toy to my horse collection.  Have I told you about my horse collection?

Granddaughters and Giggles

If laughter makes one live longer, then my two granddaughters in Novi will keep me going for many years.  A visit with them is both a revelation in how old I'm getting and how young they are keeping me.  I will explain.

Friday morning Adrianna was ready to go wait for the bus.  She said, "Grandma, do you know when a person is too fat?"  I was waiting for some comment about my weight when she said,  "A person is too fat if they are wearing the largest size and they can't find a size larger."

I broke out in a loud laugh and when I laughed she started laughing in musical tones.  We both were laughing at each other's laughter as she headed out the door.  When Bella heard us she said, "Grandma, I've got a joke for you."

"What's your joke Bella?"

"What do boy chipmunks call girl chipmunks?"  I was stumped.

Bella laughed and said, "Chickmunks!"  I told her that was a good one and giggled at her joke.

On Saturday Bella went to a birthday party and my daughter, Adrianna and I were going to go pick her up and then go shoe shopping for the girls.  I was changing my clothes and putting on a white long sleeved top to wear under a sweater.  Adrianna said, "Grandma, you have stains on that.  One here and one there."  I laughed because all of a sudden I felt like an old woman who gets food on herself and always wears stained clothes.  I hadn't even noticed the stains when I packed the shirt.

Later as Adrianna and I were waiting in the car while my daughter ran into Michaels to get Bella at the birthday party Adrianna asked, "Grandma, why do you always have to clean when you come to see us?"  I told her to come up in the front seat as I wanted to seriously explain to her how overwhelming their big house was to clean and how she needed to help her mother more than she was doing.  As she slipped onto my lap....she's almost as tall as I am....her legs dangled out the open door and she giggled, "Grandma, you have a hair growing on your chin." 

We both started laughing as she is always the one to see such things.  "My mom carries tweezers in her purse."  We dug but came up with nothing but nail clippers.  She clipped away and said I just had a little stub left.  By this time we were laughing so hard.  Old ladies with stains and chin hair is about as funny as it gets in Adrianna's world.

After shoe shopping we all went out to dinner at one of my favorite restaurants in Northville called Bone Fish.  Because the restaurant is so popular, even though we got there around 4:30, we had half an hour to wait.  An eleven year old and a nine year old can get a little wound up.  There was great jazzy music being played so while waiting in line I grabbed Bella's hands and started to dance.  Bella looked up at her mother and said, "Mom, Grandma is embarrassing me."

Several years ago Adrianna told me she could not take me to her school because I laughed too much.  Now she says she loves to hear me laugh so she goes out of her way to say and do amusing things to get my reaction.  

On the way home Bella said she would like to take care of old people when she grows up.  She remarked, "They are so cute.  I don't mean I want to change their pants; I just want to talk to them."  Then I burst out laughing.

Whenever I leave their house, I wish my two granddaughters lived closer to us.  The wonderful thing is they are coming for Thanksgiving and the laughter will continue.  They will keep me young for awhile longer. 

Adrianna and Bella ....sweet sisters......loving granddaughters....and that's no joke....