Beth Wood

Collected Memories, a Mother’s Gift

From my mother, I acquired the appreciation of a good hunt, finding treasures in Antique stores and at auctions.

Mother’s Day is fast approaching, are you ready?

I don’t know about you, but on a daily basis in my home, I’m surrounded by generations of “treasures”, all representing memories of loved one’s past, and present.

My mother’s mother didn’t like “old things”, referring to antiques as someone’s junk, my father’s mother collected all of the Depression glass glassware and entire sets of dishes, because they were “pretty”. Funny thing is, I never saw her use those dishes, she enjoyed knowing that they belonged to her, and she could use them whenever she wanted. It stands to reason that the love of the hunt for the worn, old and storied, and the appreciation for beauty and “pretty,” flows deep in my veins, inherited from wonderful women.

With Mother’s Day coming so soon, I wondered what you do to celebrate?

This year, and last, finds me without my mother, and I wondered if perhaps you can relate to that as well. The celebrations go on, of course, and I do “celebrate, or give thanks” for the mother I had, as well as for being a mother, myself.

So, I am curious, if you cook or decorate with “Mom in mind”, like we did when we were children, drawing a picture of flowers, in her favorite color….a gift tail0r-made for Mom.

Do you decorate with her favorite flowers, or like I do with cherished dishes or linens from your past? Actually, there is room on the table for flowers, linens and dishes, use it all, whatever your mother, or your family, or YOU consider to be lovely.

Across my grandma’s apron, which I still have, I’ve displayed a photo-booth picture of my mother and myself at 6 weeks old. At the end of her 6-week maternity leave, she took me to work to show her co-workers and her boss her new baby girl, then promptly resigned, to stay at home with me. To celebrate, both of my parents, and myself, took photos to commemorate the day!

This year, I have the “things” in my house, I have the memories in my head, I smell the baking bread when I look at the apron, but my mother is no longer here.

I’m not the only child out there without their mother, in my case, both parents.

Did you catch that?!! I’m a wife, a mother, stepmother, and a grandmother, I’ve enjoyed years of wonderful Mother’s Days surrounded by my girls, my grandparents, parents and my husband. So why did I refer to myself as the “child”? Because I am.

I guess we always are.

If that is you, this Mother’s Day, you are not alone.

So how do we honor someone without the flowers, gravesite visit, or visiting by leafing through old family albums?

We can always “mother” someone else, one who is lonely, hurting or missing their loved ones. Someone who simply needs a “hello” or a quick visit or phone call, to know that they are still noticed, though of, and valued.

That they are NOT forgotten.

Since that is what my grandmothers and my mother taught me, I’m certain that is what she would want this year! And would expect me to do!!!

What would your mother want you to do today, what would please her?

That’s how we celebrate Mother’s Day this year, and probably from here on…

xx,

Where’s the Wreath?

By Beth Wood

There’s more than one way to make a door pretty!

Take down your wreath!

Hang a basket instead!

Hanging a market basket filled with flowers or greenery adds such a fresh and fun feel to your entry. It’s just a bit “unexpected”, which makes you look twice, and that’s exactly what I want for “first impressions” of my home.

Easier, and simpler than hanging or making a wreath, choose a basket that will lay flat against your door, that is strong enough to be weighted to hang straight down in winds, insert a block of Styrofoam to hold the stems securely where you want them placed.

I added a bow with my accent colors, (actually I simply and loosely knotted a ribbon to hang straight down, and trimmed the ends, cut at an angle, so they wouldn’t fray) and that’s it!

Could it be any easier?

No, my friend, it could not 🙂

Originally, for Spring, I had a wreath of yellow forsythia on my door, and yellow forsythia also in the urns on both sides of my front door. To keep from changing out the urns, I used the same yellow forsythia in my basket and added some faux greens in the basket, and again in both urns. I don’t use “matchy-matchy” for my interior decor, but when it flanks the front door, I do use symmetry, which I feel is more pleasing to the eye.

I’ll bet you’ve already tried this, and kicked your wreaths to the curb…

if so, let me know, would love to hear how you “pull it together”, or let the basket stand alone.

Happy door decorating day,

xx,

Love and Loss, a Motherless Mother’s Day

By Beth Wood

What do you do without a mother on Mother’s Day?

What a beautiful day, I thought, “a Heavenly day”.

I was admiring an almost- Autumn’s afternoon, the sun hot on my shoulders and the leaves just beginning to hint of a change to come.

I had known from the moment my eyes opened, this September 28th, that today was the day, the second Anniversary of my mother’s “passing”. Passing to where, I already knew and was quite certain of, though knowing had been of little to NO comfort for the past two years.

Strangely, those who know and love me most and those who loved my mother well, had said nothing to me, or to each other that I know of. Death was an unspoken secret we kept between us. Not a single hint of acknowledgement about the “day” it was, the “day” of her passing, her death. Not a comforting wish or prayer offered…absolutely nothing from anyone.

Mind Blowing!

Today, as I stood at the mailbox, with the sun on my shoulders, I felt that it must be so wonderful to not remember, to not recall and relive, to not know the significance of this moment, this day, or this entire month. I was almost jealous…almost.

Like any other day, to any other person, I pulled the mail out of the mailbox, looking for the bills first, sorting through the junk mail to dispose of, and found a small envelope addressed to ” the daughter of Margie Holderman”…to me!

I didn’t know what it could be. All of the bills had been paid for all services rendered, all correspondence updated, all certificates submitted, all monies accounted for, and all accounts cancelled. For the past 4.5 years I had been the caretaker, driver, banking, legal and healthcare representative, P.O.A., manager of the Estate and a Trustee.

Today, I was reminded that I was her “daughter”.

The small card inside is what you see above in the photo. It was rather generic, somewhat commercial and plain but,

someone remembered.

On the exact day of her death, two years later, I received that note of condolences, a “we remember her too” statement that made my knees crumble. NO ONE ELSE knew, but they reached out to me.

To the daughter of Margie Holderman.

To both of us.

Margie Holderman, 22 years old with her first child, Beth Ann, 6 weeks old

I do believe that I will see her again, that she’ll want updates on the children and grandchildren, house renovations and why did I do this or that’s?

When you love someone well, as hard as you can, you’ll also mourn as hard as you can…

but isn’t it better to have been loved?

Where and who would we be without it?

As for mourning, grief, or the feeling of loss, I don’t know what to do with it, other than to let go, and to let God.

My dear friend, you’re not alone even when you believe you are, talk about how you’re feeling, reach out to someone or to a church or counselor. I have no sage wisdom, other than to offer you some hope.

Focusing on the love, instead of the loss, has helped me tremendously…. well, it has helped. I’m not tremendously anything yet, except

“the daughter of Margie Holderman”

xx,

A Grandmother’s Gift

By Beth Wood

“Imagination is the spark that ignites the fire of creativity”. Richard L. Peterson

Don’t you love a great story?

Come sit with me, do I have a story for you…

Let’s begin long ago, when I was a very young age, not yet four years old, I ‘ve been told that I had a very active imagination. In fact, I remember vividly the excitement of “telling stories” that I had imagined, to entertain the adults around me.

I am the first child, and the only daughter of my young parents, who lived in an old Summer Kitchen, behind my mother’s parents’ century-old farmhouse, in order to save money to someday buy a home of their own.

Four adults were my constant companions, friends, and only playmates, along with various farm animals on the property. When outside, I played in an old, no longer used, corncrib, a wash house, the large barn, outhouse, and an abandoned garage. My playhouses put Barbie’s to shame, there was no comparison, and I could not have been happier!

Summer on the farm was heaven on earth. Flowers to pick, paths to walk and explore, corn rows to march through, and fresh hay to feed the animals.

My fondest memories are of the times spent with my grandmother. She was the mother of four children and had wanted to be an Elementary teacher when she was younger. She was a character…with a fiery 100% Irish spirit, a huge generous heart and such a storyteller! She’s the “teacher” that taught me about imagination, and encouraged me to write, read, create and to share my “stories” with others.

On one very hot summer’s day, we crossed the gravel lane while walking together to the Wash House, a tiny square little white building reserved for doing the weekly “wash”. As we walked side by side, she said, “Beth Ann, do you know about Before and After’s? What that means?”

“No.”

“Today we’re going to learn what that means.” Pointing down at two dirty dog bowls on the ground, both rusted from rain, and one caked with dried dog food, she looked at me and grinned.

“Look at the bowls closely, so you can remember what they look like now. This is the Before. If you can change how they look, that will be the After.”

She handed me an old bucket and a brush, saying, ” these are some of the tools you will need”.

“But my bucket is empty! I need water and soap.”

“I’ll wait.”,

When I could see my reflection in the shiny-tin bowls, I looked up from scrubbing, searching Grandma’s face for approval.

Smiling, she said, “THIS is the after!” and that’s what people mean when they talk about before and afters! “YOU made that happen, the bowls did not change themselves.”

I felt so very grown- up and proud.

So happy that Grandma was happy!

I’m writing this now, because the lesson I learned that day was a simple one, but a lesson that has truly shaped the very essence of who I am, how I am happiest, and it developed a love for creativity that I will never “outgrow”.

The encouraging declaration of, “You made this happen,” has been a lifesaver for me several times. Divorced and unemployed, I literally created jobs to support myself and my daughters. Later, as a Recruiter, I found jobs for people with companies that weren’t even hiring! As a single mother, I also discovered how to make our home cozy and comforting with very little money,

Imagination is a wonderful gift for a child. It can offer comfort, peace, protection and escape, excitement and true joy!

Today, as I’m designing or creating, the vision I now “see”, no matter how wonderful, will never exist without reaching out for the bucket, gathering my tools, and scrubbing with everything I’ve got. There is no ” After”, without the work.

I wonder sometimes what my life would be, if I hadn’t reached out for the bucket.

xx,

Brown Sugar Cookies

By Beth Wood

Brown Sugar Cookies are “more please” delicious, a favorite treat from my kitchen.

I’ve been baking these cookies for years; the original handwritten recipe is barely readable, the paper torn in the folds and stained with drips of Pure Vanilla.

Fortunately, you don’t have to be pretty to be fabulous, especially when it comes to a much-loved recipe, requested often from my children, grandchildren and husband alike.

Over the years, I’ve added a few special touches to the recipe, perfecting it each time I bake it.

Don’t you do that as well?

With decades of practice wearing your apron, you learn what works well, what tastes the best and what your family prefers. Time and ingredients cannot be wasted.

I’d like to think that my children loved these cookies because of the tweaks I used in the recipe, though they didn’t realize that, or would they care.

Perhaps, you’ll agree with me.

Oh, one more thing: Always use cute vintage recipe cards in a vintage flower vase, if the cookies don’t turn out well, nobody will notice!

Ingredients:

1 C. butter-room temperature

2 C. dark brown sugar

2 large eggs-room temperature

3 1/2 C. flour

1 tsp. baking soda

1/2 tsp. salt –I use fine sea salt or fine Kosher salt

1 tsp. Cream of Tartar

2 tsp. Pure Vanilla

Cream butter and dark brown sugar until smooth. Add eggs, beating after each egg, add vanilla, beat until smooth.

Mix flour, soda, salt and cream of tartar, add in thirds to wet ingredients, mixing after each addition. Dough will be thick, that’s okay.

Drop by big spoonful’s onto a parchment paper covered sheet tray.

Bake at 375* for 9-11 minutes. cool on baking rack 10 minutes or until set.

Enjoy!

Let me know if you try this recipe, most of these ingredients are always in my pantry, which is why I’ve made it so often. I freeze the cookies in gallon size ziplock freezer bags to enjoy later, mainly so I don’t sit down and eat all of them!

They are THAT good…..

you’re welcome!

xx,

simplyhomebybeth