Gnew

My new Gnome (a Christmas gift from the in-laws). He looks so calm and collected. As if he would rock back on his heels and start whistling as soon as I would leave the room. Note: He knows not that he is a cookie jar ;)

Rex

Adam Rex: his work makes me smile. And his little take on the holidays does just that. And for one that is a bit blue this holiday season because her tree stayed in the box in the attic, this illustration helped put things into a lighter perspective.... just a bit. May you find a reason to smile this holiday....

Magic

There are some little magic things that are helping me get through December so I can start again. Michael Parkes happens to be one of those things. Pictured above is his painting of Tuesday's Child. His work is described as magic surrealism...something I thought I would typically stray from. Alas, his lovely work has eased my troubled brow...just a bit. How I love the light of his skies and the weight of his forms. The other is the joyous writing of my favorite author in the whole wide know world of fiction, Jeanette Winterson. This season she has written a few superb words about her thoughts on Christmas....plus a new short children's story that was featured in Time: The Lion The Unicorn and Me. She is one that I would love to sit in front of a fire, sip tea, and have her read to me the thoughts that roam her mind....

Pledge

Dear Friends and Family,
This year I am taking the Handmade Pledge. This is my promise to the world of arts and crafts that I will support the creativity in others as well as myself. Trying to budget the time for inspiration is tough this time of year. I feel it will be worth the challenge for you and for me. It is with this hope and promise of art working that I plan to stave off the holiday blues. Wish me luck...Oh, the goodies that await each of you!

My Honey Bee

Ohio winters crack my hands. Sounds painful, and it is. To boot my skin is uber sensitive to just about everything (from lotions to types of fabric blends in socks...weird, huh?). Lotions for sensitive skins usually induce horrid winces of agony on my flesh...so I would rather have the cracks ache. Until today. I was out on a quick errand to grab The Illustrated Life by Danny Gregory ( an inspiring journaling man) when my poor hands had had enough. I knew the book store sold lotions and I braved the frilly section by the checkouts to seek something for relief....even if it would sting like crazy. What I discovered was Burt's Bees Beeswax Hand Cream. I was doing the I am in pain dance while I waited in the afternoon holiday lines at the checkout. And once I forked over the money...I opened the jar to find a bit a Bee Heaven. OH! It is the best stuff ever! It soothed and conditioned my poor chapped hands. AND it smells like bananas (a scent that I typically believe should be left in bread and ice cream pops). But in this little jar and on my hands the aroma was quite pleasing and calming. Oh, how I love my little honey bees....pray it may be fiction that they are in trouble

Sweet Home

This is my very first gingerbread house (kit). It looks completely different than the picture on the box. Surprise. I wanted to make my own house from scratch and thought it wise to pop $10 in order to experiment with a kit on the first go around. I was a little disappointed when I opened the box and the house was pre-assembled and only awaited decoration. My favorite things are the gum drop trees and bushes I made to animate the flat space on the house's little acre of snow. Even though the house was pre-assembled this sweet little house took me many many many hours to create. And it is now waiting for tomorrow in order to go outside and get sprayed with glitter and sealant.

Comet

Many apologies for my break in blogging. Please note that I did meet the November Blogging Challenge---and made posts (big and small) for every day of my birth month. Understand that this is the most hectic and tiring month out of the year for a veteran retailer....thus my post will become more sporadic. For those who read and watched for the entire month----Thank you! Merci! I really do adore being a blogger---and using it as a way to keep in touch with the friends and family while I haunt third shift.

Above is the b-day present from my mom. He was waiting for me on the front porch on the b-day. Officially he is Comet...member of the Krinkle Reindeer club. To me...he is my new Harlem Globe Trotter Reindeer. The sneakers are splendid! (Note: I used to love when the Globe Trotters made a special appearance on Scooby Do...did you?)

Indeed

Today I am a year older. Mom left a card at the front door---it reminded that I came into the world at 6:08 in the morning and that I arrived with a lot of snow. What a long year it has been. So many changes and challenges. It helped today that I got to share some time reflecting and pontificating about the past year with my dear friend J. He has been a constant friend since we were 10 years old. We sat in every homeroom together and later even attended the same college. He was in my wedding with his cowboy boots. He knows more about me than most. J is my oldest confidant. And I was blessed that he arrived today (visiting his home state and family during his turkey day vacation from his work in D.C.) and treated me to a breakfast brunch...that lasted hours over good conversation. I am lucky to have friends such as this...that time, place, and distance melts away when we get back together...if even for a few hours over hot tea and tasty quiche. How great indeed is the gift of long friendships. I am grateful for each and every friend that shares my journey.

Soak

Too much. At work I try to do many, many things by myself in order for my people to focus on their primary tasks. So I run around like a crazy person all night trying to get things in order for the morning. Sometimes that involves a lot of physical work. I lift and stack wood pallets and tote around heavy freight all night long. I pull pallets that have thousands of pounds stacked on them. And last night I decided to pull a stack higher than my head of canned milk and cans of pumpkin to the receiving area. I almost made it with ease...until I had to stop short at the door to let an associate pass. With my momentum stopped it was very difficult to move forward again...even though I now had very little distance to travel. I was pulling with all my weight forward...pushing my toes to the limit of their trudge forward. And now I am paying for it. I am soar. Super soar. My mom has always lectured for us to take care of our bodies at work. We only get one you know. My exercise at the gym has helped my stamina and overall strength...I guess I just need to realize the human body does has limits and that asking others for help is not a sign of weakness. Thank goodness for Dr. Teal. His bath salt is luminous and saving. Thus I am off to a very long soak and to contemplate how smart my mom is about things...

Coat

It has been almost 10 years since my wardrobe has seen a new day-to-day winter coat. The old stand by...one I refer to as my Dead Poet Society Coat... is thread bear, missing buttons, and has a tear in the lining. It is well loved. The DPS coat was the first winter coat I purchased as an adult when I went back to college (the second time around). Until that point my polar bear blood was satisfied with jean jackets and fleece hoodies...and then I returned to academia in the snow belt and began to freeze between the months of October and May. The wind is piercing on campus. My sister and I used to bundle up in toboggans, mittens, sweaters, scarves...looking more like the school kids we once were while we trudged to university classes in the winter months. I have wanted to replace the DPS with something worthy and a bit updated in style. Who would have know I would have walked out of the Bulls Eye with a bright red hip length swing coat and a pink scarf to boot. Yep, I am crazy about the red with the pink. It makes me feel ready for the grey world that awaits outside my front door. (Note 1: My mother informed that my aunt the artist used to love to pair red and pink together when she decorated Note 2: I am ashamed to say...I had a red coat when I was in third grade that I was embarrassed to wear to school. My mom loved me in the coat believing that brunettes looks stunning in red. And of course I wanted a pink and grey puffy coat like the other girls in the class. Now, here I am with a sensible red wool coat...to make my mom proud...and to keep warm and snug all winter).

Gobble Gobble

A Thankful Turkey Day to All!

Gingerbread Man

I woke up early this morning with an urge for a coffee run. And run I did. The baristas at my favorite book store are such decadent masters of sugary goodness....and sweet to boot. Even though I ordered a regular mocha they threw the Ginger Man in out of kindness (and more likely in response to my "ooooh...he is so CUTE!"). In this picture the Gingerbread man looks to be stuck in the melting snow bank of whipped cream and chocolate shavings...is it me, or does his facial expression hint at his impending doom (see the icing tear...)? Oh, he was so scrumptious!

Fierce

Let me make one thing very clear: when it comes to music I am a fan of a man and his guitar...Johnny Cash, Tom Petty. Neil Young...and a few women like Kaki King and Sarah Harmer. So when I tell you that I am a new fan of Beyonce's album I am sure you are shocked liked me. What won me over was her little video Single Ladies---that I heard on NPR of all places. And if it is interesting enough for NPR to talk about for fifteen minutes then I just had to see the video for myself. What happened next? I have now watched the video numerous times, it is now on the i-pod for the gym, I desire tap shoes and dancing lessons and am asking Santa for a dose of talent in my stocking this holiday morning. Her voice may be kind of flat...and she is void of guitar skills...but yet she plays a part in product that I now admit I like (even the silly publicity photo above)....I want to be Fierce, too. (Note: the feminist part of my soul must be on holiday or something for this new obsession to sneak in...)

Bite

Bless him. The husband went with me to see the Monday $5 showing of Twilight. As we were waiting for the trailers to begin he was doing a testosterone head count. Out of about one hundred people there was an estimate of about 20 men who came with their dates to watch a vampire love story... I did catch the husband, at times, laughing at some of the things in the movies...and he did stay awake until the end...and even had questions about the future story line and characters. He did so well in a theater filled with teenage girls. For me it was stirring to watch a teen movie in which I now have more in common with the parental characters than with the hormonal teens hogging the screen time....must be a sign of the impending birthday...

The Borrower

We live in an old house next to the fourth oldest house in the town. Pretty cool, huh? We are only renters. I have yet to grow up and secure my own huge mortgage that will follow me to the next world. So in our rented old house there are issues that our landlord tends to ignore. One being the gutters that needed fixed over a year ago. They are hanging on by grace and overflow with water when it rains. But when it is freezing outside....the gutters create an icicle jeweled house that is just beautiful...and maybe even deadly if you happen to be passing by when they start to melt and fall...(Note: this picture is borrowed from the husband's photo folder). Thank you G!

Captain Mouse

I am very peculiar about holiday ornaments. This stems from another Mom tradition...the acquiring of one new ornament a year while we growing under her roof. I remember so clearly being given permission to select a Smurf ornament on the second floor of the JCPenny's in the next town over (my favorite down town store...complete with an elevator, and an attendant, and a sliding gate). A Smurf ornament...I was sure it would make our tree that year perfect in every way. When my sis and I became roommates again in college I started our sibling tradition of getting her an ornament from the specialty artsy store in the university town. I am sure she expects to see the Chinese take out gift box under the tree every Christmas...with a new ornament waiting for her tree (note: she has a cloisonne mermaid and a lizard). This year our new ornament came from a big box retailer. Shame on me. Captain Mouse. His little card ship with a treasure chest of candy canes was too winning for me to resist. He is a bit different from the Donald Drumm and Patience Brewster decorations that usually follow me home this time of year. He is wonderful to me.

Make a Joyous Noise

The day after turkey day is when it would start...the constant singing of Christmas carols by our family. We had average voices...treding flat...but full of joy. Every car trip it would only be a matter of time before someone would start White Christmas or Here Come's Santa Claus. Most came from my mom...whom I thought knew every holiday song. Even when we were a bit older...as in college age, we still sang in front of my roommate from Japan (who thought that it was great and kind of crazy). My sister and I covet a series of Old Navy Holiday CD's. And when she moved out years ago she took them with her...to my dismay. I was fortunate enough to find a music savvy husband. He has assembled several holiday CD's featuring my favorites...that I listen to over and over and over again. This year I compiled my most favorite holiday songs for a CD SWAP. The only one missing is Adam Sandler's Chanukah Song (I think I may be alone in the anticipation of hearing this song every year). So below is my collection...and if you would like a copy I would love to share this joy with you. Just drop me a line and in the mail it will go!..Note: due to my love of caroling in my semi-flat singing voice the husband request that I wait until December 1st before I start belting out O Holy Night in the car as we run errands....

01 - Christine Lavin & The Mistletones - A Christmas/ Kwanzaa/ Solstice/
Chanukah/ Ramadan/ Boxing Day Song
02 - Weepies - All That I Want
03 - Doris Day & Bing Crosby - Baby, Its Cold Outside
04 - Great Big Sea - Seven Joys of Mary
05 - Smashing Pumpkins - Christmas Time
06 - Sting - I Saw Three Ships
07 - The Muppets - One More Sleep 'Til Christmas
08 - Arthur Fiedler and The Boston Pops - Sleigh Ride
09 - Burl Ives - Holly Jolly Christmas
10 - Paul McCartney & Wings - Wonderful Christmas Time
11 - Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers - Christmas all over Again
12 - Madonna - Santa Baby
13 - Blink182 - I Won't Be Home For Christmas
14 - Tracy Chapman - O Holy Night
15 - Dave Matthews Band - Christmas Song
16 - Leon Redbone & Dr. John - Frosty the Snowman
17 - Louis Armstrong - Zat You Santa Claus
18 - Randy Travis - Meet Me Under the Mistletoe
19 - Bing Crosby - White Christmas
20 - Thurl Ravenscroft - You're a Mean One Mr. Grinch
21 - Tony Bennett - Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas
22 - Appendix Out - The Holly Bears a Berry
23 - Stephen Paulus - Hallelu
24 - Natalie MacMaster and Alison Krauss - Get Me Through December

Bitter Sweet

Over the next few days I have a big decision I have to make...it could effect numerous things....for the good and for the bad. My store manager approached me about leaving my store for another...she sensed I was unhappy and might do better working for my old store manager. Hitch: the old store manager is in charge of a really tough store...the clientele are rough people. I am shaken by being pulled into the office this morning for such a discussion. The store manager kept saying she wanted me stay and if I wanted to bolt that would be okay too. All this from a person who kicks me around every morning on our tours and wonders why I am stressed out. She is with the day managers for 10 hours during the day...so there is time to talk about cruises, Amish country, kids in college, miles to the gallon, a-silly-thing-happened-to-me-type-of -thing. For an overnight manager such as myself we are drilled for the hour tour on what we did all night and what went wrong. Leaving little time for me to talk about my art or the other manager's interest in hunting. I take responsibility for some of my stress...but somehow she has missed how hard I work every day trying to take care of my store...of my people. I go in on my days off...just to help out (and I do this a bit much). She has known of me for two months. She has yet to know me at all...I may appear serious, tough, disappointed, stressed...but I am loyal and I care a great deal about the work I do. As I get ready for work tonight I am happy to be perplexed at a smaller decision that means much to me....what fantastic new socks to wear to work...from Shauna at The Lemon Drop Studio as part of a sock SWAP...how I love polka-dots....and stripes...and the pretty blue...perhaps I will wear a combination to work...dots on the left foot and stripes on the right?

Tea and Toast

The weather is doing it's own thing outside. Inside I am trying to keep warm with tea and toast...one of my very favorite things. Others can have the coffee....hand over the tea for me. Mornings like this are linked to so many other chilly day breakfasts. Tea and toast...the taste, the smell, the warmth... put me back in my mother's kitchen praying for a snow day.

Shame

May fate keep me far from this man...even in his fictional form....I fear I would make a complete and utter fool of myself. We went to see the new Bond flick. What was the plot? *shoulder shrug*. But I do know Mr. Bond looked very nice in his suits...and out of his suits. There is something about this version of Bonds that makes me blush...even giggle. It perplexes my husband. I mean he has a little crumpled face and ears that stick out a bit....but I think that just increases the appeal. Where are the men that can put on a suit and command a room with their presence? And then do the same in a blue brief speedo on the beach...?

Blue Morning

Snow fell through the night.... transforming our neighborhood into a quiet, still place in the blue light of early morning. I am so glad I had to get out of bed to use the bathroom...or I would have missed this little transcendental moment of the day.

Sundays

I have two new favorite sites that I arrive to on a regular basis: Post Secret and Word of the Day. On Sunday's Post Secret updates their Sunday Secret sections (picture above is a recent card added this past Sunday). The selected group of postcards make me laugh, cry, and gaff. It makes me rattle my tired brain to think of my own secrets to mail to Frank (the author of the books and site). The other...Word of the Day...is a fantastic vocabulary illustrated site. Note: I adored vocabulary lessons, tests, writing assignments, and even pop quizzes during my school years. Lately I feel my intelligence leaking away and this little site has been trying to seal the fisher created from my work environment (where very simple words and speech are the norm...). My favorite word this past week: Crumpet. Say it out loud and discover what a cute word it is...Assignment : Use "crumpet" in a sentence....and then wonder when and where you can use it in a conversation this week. Now go!

Punch

Pleased as punch I am today with my little side endeavor. To combat the chilly warehouse atmosphere of my work environment...and to push the envelope with my company's bland dress code...I have fallen for arm warmers. I desired long warmers and most places only had ones that barely reached my elbow. At the same time I noticed that colorful and patterned tights have grown in popularity for the coming winter season. I purchased a small pair of ladies footless cable tights with grey and purple stripe (and a tiny trio of buttons)....cut the legs off...and wha-la...the perfect arm warmers for five dollars. I now have my sights on the tights in the little girls department---polka dots abound!

Truckin'

I dream of trucks. Big, beautiful, boastful trucks from the decade in which I came into the world. A blue tick healer in the bed named Timber, the windows down, and the AM radio providing the soundtrack to my trucking dreams...

Unbelievable

I share an office at work with nine other members of management. Most of the time my little area of our headquarters is organized. The others tend to let their work mingle in the office. On the cork board above my area of the desk hung various little pieces of inspiration from my life...as a way to keep me going. Pictures of my art, family members, zany birthday cards and postcards of artist I adore often spark conversations with other associates and visitors. Even my market manager thought my holographic image of the Mona Lisa that turns into a skeleton was cool...something different to look at...to think about. I arrive to work after my days off to discover the office has been cleaned. All the miscellaneous manager paperwork is gone. And my inspiration board was taken down and put into a box for me to take home. I was so hurt and angry that someone threw my stuff in a box. I agree the office needed to be more organized...but now we are only allowed to have one picture frame on our shelf, one wire cup for writing utensils and one wire basket for "in" papers. It was apparent that the time to re-arrange the office was more important than cleaning our backroom or taking care of inventory issues that are effecting our current negative sales in the store. As I looked at my box full of stuff I felt really disjointed from the company I have given 13 years of my working life. The world can be such an amazing beautiful place....just not in my store. They pack it into a box and tell you to take it home.

A List

List 10 things that swirl:

1. sprouting fern
2. water down a drain
3. drill bit
4. rose blossom
5. electric stove top
6. our galaxy
7. the curl in her hair
8. this seasons hurricanes
9. the barber sign
10. black hole

...this was a tiny insert in a fashion magazine that arrived today in the post....to me it felt like poetry...what would you add to the list? (me?...crown of a newborn)

Max Fisher was waiting for me in the Post this morning. He is the creation of random flickr meeting with a student from Michigan. She does the most amazing collage work...often featuring the characters and details from Wes Anderson films. I asked if she could do one of Rushmore for me... I sent her some prints of my Tenenbaum Pet Portraits and received this in return. I am over the moon with this bit of art...I do love a Max Fisher in his red beret...Stephanie you are amazing!

Survivor

This somewhat scrawny tropical plant lives on our lilac bathroom. He was a gift to me four years ago from my peers at work. Four years ago I had an emergency appendectomy on the eve before Halloween. I was in the hospital for five days instead of the modern overnight stay. The husband tells stories of how costumed people were hanging out in the waiting room with them as I waited over 13 hours for the hospital people to decide what was my issue. My husband arranged for the League of Woman voters to come to the hospital so I could cast my ballot...and I was still pretty drugged up by the time the husband's birthday rolled around. I remember very little of my life from that November four years ago...other than how great it was to finally take a shower without any help washing my hair. The story goes that my appendix had popped during the week and had turned gang green (I know---yuck). By the time my family drug me to the hospital the infection had started to travel to other body organs---my doctor told me much later how serious the situation actually was. As I forgot to water the little fellow today (again) I am amazed at his tenacity to survive in our little bathroom over these past years...and at all the changes that have come in and out of our lives over these years together. I am happy to greet him every morning....me and my little green survivor.

The birthday is at the end of this month. Above is a photograph of my parents before my arrival. Below is a short piece I wrote during a different birthday...reflecting on the meaning of it all. (Note: I think my parents are beautiful in this picture...their apparent tenderness caught in a moment of photo booth antics...it has always been my favorite picture of them before other things happened in life...)

The Snapshot

They hopped into a photo booth to capture a flash of their young selves. It’s black, white and a thousand shades of gray. So his eyes are not blue and his hair is not wheat blond. Her rectangle glasses read black instead of tortoiseshell. The true colors of her eyelet blouse and his dark football t-shirt forever in mystery grays. Her long black hippie hair is in their with his bushy mustache before the scissors of responsibility found them both. They’re heads are close together to fit their smiles into the frame. She’s sitting on his lap. They look wrapped in a warm secret of comfortable joy. It was taken a year or so before I was born. It’s my mirror to knowing that my genetic contributors were once happy and truly in love, if even for a moment in a thirty-something year old snapshot of summer romance.

Gnome In a Book: Another literary life changing book. Aimee Bender's The Girl in the Flammable Skirt....a collection of witty and quirky short stories. I wish I wrote these beautiful gems of simple prose. My sanity has been saved this week by this very endearing book.

From the short story Loser:
He went home to his tiny room and thought about the word lonely and how it sounded and looked so lonely, with the two l's in it, each standing tall by itself.

Walt Kuhn

Harrison Fisher

Malvina Hoffman

The Smithsonian has a lovely flickr site featuring arresting and alluring portraits of artists. I adore their beautiful handsome faces and their snazzy sense of style....and of course Malvina's beret...

Glimpse

Look! It's me when I was a little girl...an inspiring wee nerd. This precious illustration warmed my bookish heart.

Audacity

Yesterday made me believe that all the change I need in my life might actually be possible.

I can find a better job.

I can be an artist.

I can relax.

I can be...

H-O-P-E

Yes we can.

Yes we did.

Yes we will.

V-O-T-E!

We were up at the crack of dawn this morning in order to get to the VFW early and VOTE! It was such a great sense of community. We saw some of our friends and their family members as we stood in line to perform our civic duty.

So serious I am about this election---as you can see by the expression on my face...actually it is really just a lack of sleep...

And then it was on to the election breakfast with our dear old friend S at the local Bob Evans. Hot tea, politics, and friends----such a great morning.

And 29 years ago the husband was born....what a day. Now we are off to my kindred sister M's house to join in a small election party get together....we are bringing the patriotic cup cakes!

The Passion

I just finished my end of the 75 question swap. The answers will be in the mail tomorrow morning after we Vote. The question I loved to answer concerned my inner nerd. What is my favorite book and favorite author. Since I spent a little time in the library room of our place I dug out my well loved...well read...well lined copy of The Passion by Jeanette Winterson. This was the first book of fiction I read after I graduated high school and was dwelling in college. It opened a door that has stayed open since. Until this book I had always been a "reader". It was an easy form of escape. Yet everything I read until that point was suggested by peers or the high school English teacher. (IE: Interview With a Vampire, Stephen King books....Lord of the Flies). This type of fiction carried me away. I have read most of J.W. books and adore her writing....her language melts me. I just added her website over there on the Gnome Watch for those who get into literature. She is my book crush. What is The Passion about? It takes place in France and Venice during the reign of Napoleon. The characters serve chicken, gamble, and search for what love is. The following is one of my favorite passages:

Bonaparte, the Corsican. Born in 1769, a Leo.

Short, pale moody, with an eye to the future and a singular ability to concentrate. In 1789 revolution opened a closed world and for a time the meanest street boy had more on his side than any aristocrat. For a young Lieutenant skilled in artillery, the chances were kind and in a few years General Bonaparte was turning Italy into the fields of France.

"What is luck," he said, "but the ability to exploit accidents?"

He believed he was the center of the world and for a long time there was nothing to change him from this belief. Not even John Bull. He was in love with himself and France joined in. It was a romance. Perhaps all romance is like that: not a contrast between equal parties but an explosion of dreams and desires that can find no outlet in everyday life. Only a drama will do and while the fireworks last the sky is a different colour. He became an Emperor. He called the Pope from the Holy City to crown him but at the last second took the crown in his own hands and placed it on his own head. He divorced the only person that understood him, the only person he ever really loved, because she couldn't give him a child. That was the only part of the romance he couldn't control himself.

He is repulsive and fascinating by turns.

What would you do if you were an Emperor? Would soldiers become numbers? Would battles become diagrams? Would intellectuals become a threat? Would you end your days on an island where the food is salty and the company bland?

He was the most powerful man in the world and he couldn't beat Josephine at billiards.

I am telling you stories. Trust me.

To Do

On my days off I always have a "to do" that I love to make and love to ignore. For example: Today:

1. Take car in for e-check
2. Get renewal sticker for car
3. Dishes
4. Laundry
5. Clean the Bathroom
6. Vacuum
7. Dust
8. Mail Swaps
9. B-day card for the husband
10. Wax eyebrows
11. Clean work desk---again!
12. Clean out fridge.
13. Work out at Gym

This is all trumped of course for this incredible itch to get in my library and make sense of the book order chaos that has taken over since the room changed four months ago. I mean-- Chuck Klosterman and Peter Beagle are living next door to each other in my library neighborhood at this very moment! The ideal organization in my library is roughly by genre and then alphabetical by author. Right now it is a free for all...and I long to bring my wobbly order back to the literacy anarchy I have ignored for too long. Just that pesky list to ignore....

I love my mom...as the person who gave me life...and as the great human being that she is everyday. During a recent visit home I mentioned a random thing to my dear mother: I wanted acorns...little real ones for a project. The yards in my neighborhood contain plenty of maples and horse chestnut trees...acorns are scarce. As I slept the day away after my return to work after vacation...I awoke to a string of messages on the answering machine. My mom. She came all the way up here to drop off the husband's b-day present on the front porch...and to leave these two precious acorns for me on the porch railing. She makes me feel so loved...and listened to...