A winter ladder plant stand, with memories attached

I wasn't ready to take down the Christmas decorating when I did. The house was decked out so full and pretty, with the Christmas ladder tree, and Christmas tree forest in a crate, and nothing was really in the way. However once I started cleaning up, it felt strange to have only parts disappear.

And then it hit. I needed it ALL gone so I could play around with some fresh, new ideas.

Rolling up my sleeves, I bit the bullet and started making piles. And piles and piles and piles.

I'm kind of glad I had the clean up task. Although I kind of dreaded it, it kept me busy. I was feeing that low after a very high high if you know what I mean. It felt so quiet. A little too quiet. And tasks indeed fill in the blanks.



So... my thoughts pondered. Go full out winter decorating perhaps? I tried. I put all this snow stuff out and white this and that, stood back, but  it felt like Christmas all over again.

Nope. I was ready for a fresh, clean start. So it all got tucked away. Except for a few choice elements.

First up, any changes I make, I like them to also be productive. The basket under the ladder was the perfect place to stash magazines. Just don't tell anyone that I ran out of felt liners and used a taped on washcloth for a slider instead...





Two other signs of winter... the vintage Nabob coffee jar filled with faux snow and the twiggy rustic sticks.

Would you believe this makes me smile?

Winter makes me think back to my childhood farm. With all it's tall, unruly yet majestic trees poking high into the white winter sky. They reminded me of the intense ice storms we use to have, while we huddled around the kitchen table, a flickering candle illuminating our board game.

Funny. I knew we were cold because we wore coats inside. But I don't remember being cold. Just the sound of crashing ice from the tall tree branches breaking, and our laughter in the dark. Ice storms were the best!

Ahh... a little piece of my grandmother's home. This was her iron. I don't remember her using it, but I do remember her wringer washing machine greeting you at the back porch door as you walked in. Grandma also had one of those clothespin hanger things that looked like a mini vintage apron.

Funny how memories are all linked together, isn't it?

The cute cloche makes a return appearance, this time housing some heavy twine for a warm winter's feel.

Twine reminds me of binder twine from the bales I use to help haul. I always drove tractor, 'hiring' all my guy friends from school to come on over. The guys would do the throwing and stacking while I drove the fields. Most of the hay fields were further down the road, so we'd always do this stretch of drive with this hanging tower of crooked bales swaying high in the air, always wondering if we'd make it intact.

Every now and then you'd get the 'hollar'... when the bales came tumbling down. All part of the charm.



Pretty, rusty gears,  how I love you so! They were still lightly misted with faux snow from the holidays, which provided the perfect winter highlight.

Gears remind me of my dad's sheds out back. They had shelves stacked with all things rust. He stored nails and such in tins and they did their aging thing their own way.

Ahh... and then there's the Peters crate. This is a cute story.

Friend Polly from Blackberry House was helping empty her parent's barn many moons ago, when she discovered a crate with my Dad's name on it. (Peter) She rescued it, then tucked it away, hoping to get it to me somehow, someway one day.

When I dashed off to Bella Rustica in September, it was such a blessing that we finally had a chance to meet! And Polly promptly remembered and brought the crate! You bet I booked it in as a separate piece of luggage in order to get it home in one piece. A very special piece from a very special friend.

A rusty oil funnel is holding a few ornaments, with some remnants of winter and the festive season. I flat out wasn't ready to hide all the Christmas decorating quite yet after all.

Christmas reminds me of growing up in the old farmhouse. The kids would sneak downstairs, turn the corner into the living room, and see the massive tree all aglow with it's heavy sparkling tinsel and vintage lights with the scalloped metal reflectors.

There would always be one present unwrapped. And it was 'the' gift. The one we were dying to have at all costs! I still remember dashing to the tree and hugging our dream gift, while madly unwrapping the other ones. How could you not feel the love from your parents, offering you the desires of your heart?



Well, it's now time to move beyond the light and the tinsel and go strike out some new memory making material. And I do believe my plants fully approve!



May the cool winter sunshine stream right through your own windows, warming up your special spaces and your heart.

Happy winter to you!