Window Over The Sink

by Lee Ann Sontheimer Murphy "One of our family traditions is to collect special ornaments as keepsakes. One of my first ornaments was also my first doll, gifted to me by my grandmother. The star dates back to my dad's childhood in the 1940's." He wore a blue mailman’s uniform, not the classic red suit and fur-trimmed hat but my Uncle Roy filled the shoes of Santa Claus as well as anyone I’ve ever known. In 1972, he made one little girl’s Christmas both bright and memorable w

by Carol Light I live in South Florida in a semitropical climate more hospitable to flamingos than reindeer. Even so, the holiday season is alive and well here, although I wouldn’t bet on Santa arriving on a snowy roof with his bundle of presents. And what would he do on that roof other than suffer heat stroke in his red suit? After all, there’s a distinct lack of chimneys in this area. While some of my neighbors have fireplaces, most of us don’t. It’s been several years sinc

by Kyra Jacobs ‘Tis the season for festive posts at Liz’s beloved Window Over the Sink! I’m so happy to be back, because to write a post worthy of the window  means I’ll need to slow down. Consider. Reminisce. Dream. It’s been a while since I’ve blogged, something I used to find such joy in. Self-expression at its finest, tucked safely behind a keyboard and computer screen, sharing my experiences and the emotions that came with them. Some of you continue to be AMAZING, dedica

by Nan Reinhardt I love to sing. I can’t sing. I mean I have a truly terrible voice, but I love to sing. Especially at Christmas. So Pandora’s Christmas Classics starts playing at our house before Thanksgiving and NPR gets switched to the Christmas station on the car radio as soon as B105.7 becomes all Christmas music all the time. I’ve played James Taylor’s holiday CD so many times I’m surprised it isn’t worn through and at least four times a week, I hunt for the Eagles vers

By Cheryl St. John I love this time of year, especially because I love Christmas trees and all the decorations. I’ve been working on thinning out my storage room, since I had enough ornaments to decorate trees with six different themes. I used to put up four trees, but we’ve downsized and I have to get my mind around the fact that I need less. The Santa's sleigh in this photo was my grandmother's, and it's one of my most precious possessions. Plastic Christmas ornaments origi

by Kim Janine Ligon I have been nostalgic for the Christmases of my childhood. I stay awake remembering half the night away. Mother was Mrs. Christmas. She loved everything about it and was all in on the shopping, feasting and decorating.  Daddy always selected a tree that was too tall, even though we had twelve foot ceilings in the living room. Mother made sure "the bad side" was hidden in the corner. We all decorated with homemade ornaments, fragile glass balls and lots and

By Kristina Knight It’s been an odd couple of years. Maybe four. Mostly likely right at three-and-a-half. Years where I couldn’t find the words. Literally. Story ideas? Plenty of ‘em. Characters? All over the place. Twists and turns? Everywhere. But when I would sit down at my desk to write, nothing.  I thought I was done. That the stories in my head were just destined to just live in my head.  It was frustrating. Demoralizing. I felt like a failure. To some extent, I’d alway

by Roseann McGrath Brooks One of my husband’s favorite Christmas carols is the somewhat obscure “ ’Twas in the Moon of Wintertime .” Those readers unfamiliar with the hymn, also called the “Huron Carol,” may be surprised to see verses about mighty Gitchi Manitou and hunter braves. Such words remind me in these disheartening times of division and animosity that the Christmas story is meant for everyone.  The hymn was written in 1642 by Jean de Brébeuf, a Jesuit missionary amon

by Maggie Blackbird I asked my father what it was like to spend Christmas at St. Charles Garnier Indian Residential High School for Boys, which he attended in Spanish, Northeastern Ontario in the mid-fifties as a young teenager.  Being so far from home, he had to stay during the holidays since my grandparents couldn’t afford to bring him back to the reserve located a good 1,200 kilometres away in Northwestern Ontario. He mentioned the priests and staff did their best to make

by Meryl Brown Tobin Holidays are important for anyone. They get you away from everyday concerns and allow you to disconnect, unwind, relax and refresh. Unplugging and focusing on what you want to do––travelling, beachcombing, bushwalking or whatever––is good for your mental health, stops you feeling overwhelmed, improves sleep, as does increased physical activity. According to research, spending time in natural environments, as I do, is especially good for your brain.  As a

by Donna Cronk I’m not talking about a holiday table where everyone talks at once, anticipating the turkey and dressing. The family members filling my dining room table of late came from afar: from not only the previous century but the one before that.  They were around when horses and buggies were the only local public transportation. They butchered their own meat, raised their own chickens, and the ladies wore long-sleeved floor-length dresses daily as they canned food and

by Lori Matsourani December is here, ringing in the holiday season and, for me, the busiest time of year! Putting up decorations, scouting out gift ideas, planning holiday get-togethers, pulling out everyone’s favorite recipes, scouring Kroger and H-E-B for the ingredients I need for all the requested holiday dishes, and then baking a cornucopia of holiday treats. As I rifled through my holiday files (that makes me sound extremely organized; but don’t be fooled, I’m really no

by M.J. Schiller Thanksgiving is barely in our rearview mirror. In fact, some of us may still be full from our turkey dinner. But, let’s face it, the stores have been pushing Christmas since shortly after the 4 th  of July. Okay, that might be a slight exaggeration, but...  What makes your house Christmassy? Is it the smell of cookies baking wafting from the kitchen and swirling about the fragrance of pine needles in the living room? Is it the sight of that snowman that your

by Joe DeRozier Joe DeRozier It is Thanksgiving week! Life can be hard at times, and it can be difficult to not focus solely on our troubles. This week is a good time to see the good that is shining through... Steve was the Chef du jour at his restaurant when he saw Kathy and me at a table under the painting of Frank Sinatra. "Joe! I'm glad you're here. I have something for you." ... My "bad day" had started a full four hours before the clock struck midnight the previous nigh

by Charley Sutton Thanksgiving has come and gone, and Christmas is coming soon. The food left over from Thanksgiving dinner will get us through the weekend, but there seems to be nothing good to eat between Thanksgiving and Christmas after the leftovers are gone. Why? They sell turkeys all year round, but Thanksgiving and Christmas seem to be the only time we eat them. Dressing goes with the turkey, but I’d eat it at least once a month. The mashed potatoes are a dinner time s

I will begin this with Nan's post on our last day ... and a half ... and end it with being back home. Thanks to those who've journeyed with us this week.

Well, kids, I’m tired, I’m brain dead after a day of writing and I’ve had too much wine (I blame Liz for that, although I poured it myself, but she could’ve stopped me.)  That’s me in my “writing sweater”–a very tattered sweater that once belonged to my sister Kate, who left us way too soon. I wear to write because it’s magic–words come when I have it on. I think they come in through the holes… I could be wrong about that, but I don’t think I am. It was a day of all writing a

We arrived! We drove...and drove...and drove, but we got here safely and are loving our place! I knew that sister PJ vacationed with aplomb, but who knew Lizzie and I would enjoy such luxury? First though, the trip. I asked Gigi (my GPS) to avoid toll roads and interstates, and boy, did she! Part of our trip was on long country roads, past cornfields and farms and pastures with cows and horses. Delightful scenery! Interestingly, the route she took us on had so few towns, larg

by Wendy Kendall Celebrate with Mystery Author, Wendy Kendall What are you carrying on National Handbag Day?  This year it's Friday,...

The cartel king has finally found his queen. Kidnapped by the enemy. Bought by the jefe. Will his smoldering touch thaw her frozen heart?...