Please visit my new blog:
www.bessiemary.blogspot.com
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Last week, I did what I always do at this time of year. I visited a local garden center, purchased several sprays of fresh greenery, bound them with bright bows, and laid them on the graves of beloved family members.
I stood in the quiet cemetery, remembering so many joyful holidays of years past with loved ones now gone. I also thought of the recent months, the countless doctor appointments, the anxiety while waiting for test results, surgery and healing. I then drove out of the cemetery gates, turning left instead of right. I returned to the garden center and loaded the back of my SUV with more fragrant greenery and crimson poinsettias.
We have always had a fresh tree. However, as it seemed the requirement to decorate earlier and earlier each year, I found myself using more and more artificial greenery, garlands and floral arrangements. Not this year!
Our mantel is now draped in fresh greenery. Branches of fir are arranged in pitchers and vases. Decorations, collected and cherished through the years, nestle in fragrant needles of green.
I may have even heard the antique soup tureen sigh as it's rim was brushed by the velvety bracts of the poinsettia, and it was placed in the center of the dining room table.
Was that a giggle I heard as the nutcracker's feet were tickled by the pine branches?
There may be fewer decorations in our home this year, letting the beauty of the greenery stand on it own without lights, glitter and fluff. I do hope that there is a little more "living" in our home and hearts, though.
Christmas is about a birth and a life that brought faith, hope, peace and love into the world. Whether you find it in garlands of fresh greenery, the twinkle of lights on your Christmas tree, the smile of a loved one, the donation of a gift to one less fortunate or more troubled, the wonder in a small child's eyes, or the words of a carol, my wish is that you will find and be blessed by the true meaning and joy of Christmas.
Merry Christmas!
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Happy Mother's Day!
"Motherhood brings as much joy as ever, but it still brings boredom, exhaustion, and sorrow, too. Nothing else ever will make you as happy or as sad, as proud or as tired, for nothing is quite as hard as helping a person develop his own individuality especially while you struggle to keep your own"
From The Mother's Almanac
by Marguerite Kelly and Elia Parsons
May 10, 2009
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Alleluia!
Christ the Lord is risen today, Alleluia!
Sons of men and angels say, Alleluia!
Raise your joys and triumphs high, Alleluia!
Sing, ye heavens and earth reply, Alleluia!
Love's redeeming work is done, Alleluia!
Fought the fight, the battle won, Alleluia!
Death in vain forbids Him rise, Alleluia!
Christ has opened Paradise, Alleluia!
Lives again our glorious King, Alleluia!
Where, O death, is now thy sting? Alleluia!
Dying once He all doth save, Alleluia!
Where thy victory, O grave? Alleluia!
Soar we now where Christ has led, Alleluia!
Following our exalted Head, Alleluia!
Made like Him, like Him we rise, Alleluia!
Ours the cross, the grave, the skies, Alleluia!
Hail the Lord of earth and heaven, Alleluia!
Praise to Thee by both be given, Alleluia!
Thee we greet triumphant now, Alleluia!
Hail the Resurrection, thou, Alleluia!
King of glory, soul of bliss, Alleluia!
Everlasting life is this, Alleluia!
Thee to know, Thy power to prove, Alleluia!
Thus to sing, and thus to love, Alleluia!
Charles Wesley, 1707-1788
He is Risen!
Happy Easter!
April 12, 2009
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May your Easter basket runneth over!
April 10, 2009
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In the Garden
What better place to celebrate the first day of Spring 2009 than in a garden? I recently had the opportunity to tour the Missouri Bontanical Gardens, located in St. Louis. It was a rather blustery March day. What jewels we found tucked inside the walls of this wonderful garden!
An amazing orchid show was in progress, with orchids of every color and size.
The sights were spectacular and the fragrance was heavenly!
To me, the sign of a good garden is one that is just as beautiful in its bare bones, as when all the plantings are in full leaf and bloom. This garden definitely has good bones.
Enjoy greeting this new Spring season in your garden!
March 20, 2009
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Sew Sweet!
Who says that the only delicious treats are those we eat?
Some are simply meant to be treasured.
May your treat this Valentine's Day be whatever
makes your heart sing!
Happy Valentine's Day!
February 14, 2009
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The Pictures of Christmas
If, as Herod, we fill our lives with things, and again with things; if we consider ourselves so unimportant that we must fill every moment of our lives with action, when will we have the time to make the long, slow journey across the desert as did the Magi? Or sit and watch the stars as did the shepherds? Or brood over the coming of the child as did Mary? For each one of us, there is a desert to travel. A star to discover. And a being within ourselves to bring to life.
~Author Unknown~
Last year, I shared photographs of a few holiday decorations around my home. I planned on sharing more this year.
Then, I learned that many of my photographs have been lifted and used illegally by others -- some even laying claim to the photographs or decorations as their own. Grinch came to live in my heart. My anger has now dulled to disappointment, as I struggle to remember it is more blessed to give than receive. All the recent pondering and soul searching also led me to remember another valuable lesson:
Christmas is not about things. It is about something no store can stock, nor any amount of money can purchase.
It is about memories. Those from Christmas past, and those yet to be made. It is the memory of holidays spent with loved ones no longer here. They now are the lights that glow brightest on our trees. It is the memory of your favorite holiday dress as a child. The one that made you feel like a princess! The Christmas concert when more wrong, than correct, keys were struck, but all the parents, especially yours, clapped and gave a standing ovation. It was being selected to play Mrs. Santa Claus, in your elementary school holiday program, because your hair was so blonde it was almost white. It is the memory of coming home for the holidays, after a week of college exams and no sleep. Nothing ever looked, felt or smelled so good! It is the memory of a "Charlie Brown" Christmas tree, on the tight budget of a young adult. It is the memory of that first Christmas with the one you truly love. It is the memory of a much larger tree sliding off the top of your car onto one of the busiest streets in town. Only to realize that the men at the tree lot were very successful at tying your car doors shut, but not so great at securing the tree. It is the memory of a grandmother's or mother's divinity, peanut brittle or rum cake that you have never been able to duplicate. It is the memory of children perched on Santa's knee displaying cherub-like goodness and smiles -- except for one. That would be yours! However, you act as if you have never seen him before. It is the memory of tiny feet running downstairs, and small hands clutching the plate which held only crumbs from the cookies consumed overnight by the magical elf himself. It is assuring that geckos really can live at the North Pole, and a 3-foot terrarium really does fit into Santa's bag, not to mention on the back of a flying sleigh! It is combining glitter and Cheerios to make reindeer food and scattering it outside - praying all the time that you will be able to find it again, in the black of night, and make it disappear! It is the memory of that last shopping spree at Toys R Us, knowing that future shopping sprees will most likely be at Best Buy. It's the memory of when your Christmas tree was taller than your child.
It is about the sights. The pile of cards and letters in your mailbox, connecting you with friends and family across the miles. The wreaths and greenery framing doorways, welcoming visitors. The glow of a neighborhood wrapped in lights, instead of the usual darkness. The crimson poinsettias stretching the length of the church altar. Their velvet-like blooms given in memory and honor of special ones. Later, they will brighten the rooms of hospitals and nursing homes. The Christmas china, as it temporarily replaces the everyday dishes. The cherished needlepoint stockings hung with care.
It is about the smells. The fresh pine of the tree. The scent of cinnamon and sugar from freshly baked cookies. A wood burning fireplace. Even the musty smell of the attic, as the decorations make their annual descent and appearance.
It is about the sounds. The familiar carols, learned as a child and still remembered word for word. It is the ringing of a hand held bell, and the clink of change in a red kettle, as we remember those less fortunate. It is the sound of glee from children, as they ooh and ahh at the lights and sights of the season. It is hearing the sleigh bells ring, because you still believe after all these years. It is the hush that settles over the congregation, as the candles are lit at midnight on Christmas Eve.
It is a babe, wrapped in swaddling cloths, and lying in a manger.
It is the message of hope, joy, peace and love.
It is the pictures etched forever in our minds and on our hearts. All of these are more priceless than any photograph that could ever be taken by a camera or shared here.
This is my wish for each of you.
Merry Christmas!
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We gather together . . . .
Pie. It is probably what I remember best about so many Thanksgivings.
Pecan pie was the choice of my father. Pumpkin was my sister's favorite. The rich chocolate blackbottom was mine. Mother would have preferred lemon meringue, but that didn't quite fit the season!
Regardless the flavor or the size of the serving, there was one thing on which we all agreed. The point was to be eaten last. It was a family tradition.
Supposedly, a wish made with that last bite would come true.
As we gather around our tables and give thanks, save the point of the pie for last, and may your wish come true.
Have a blessed Thanksgiving Day!
November 27, 2008
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I believe in the sun,
even when it does not shine.
I believe in love,
even when I do not feel it.
I believe in God,
even when he seems Silent.
~Author Unknown~
For special friends who are traveling difficult paths at the moment.
November 19, 2008
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Vote And Be Counted
. . . and that government of the people, by the people, for the people, shall not perish from the earth.
Abraham Lincoln, November 19, 1863
November 4, 2008
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Vacation!
Vacation - defined as a respite, or time of respite from something.
What better location for a respite than the beach and a favorite resort?
Some stand on the shore and feel small and insignificant, staring at that vast body of water. I stood at this spot and felt refreshed, soothed and calm. There were no schedules. Cell phones and water do not mix. Someone else did the cooking and cleaning. Most definitely, a respite.
There were gorgeous views from our balcony.
There were swings for daydreaming.
There were shady spots for cooling off . . .
and watching the ducks. I closed my eyes and could remember our son, almost 20 years ago, feeding ducks in this same pond.
There were lush beds of green, and baskets bulging with the colors of summer.
There were ancient Live Oaks, their branches kissing the emerald grass.
Oh, and the food! We ate, and ate some more. Like I said, someone else was doing the cooking and cleaning! I thought it best not to take the camera to the dining room and restaurants, so you will just have to take my word that it was delicious!
It was a wonderful week. Thank goodness for the photographs -- those taken with modern technology and those etched in my mind. I can feel the warmth of the sun and the ruffle of the breeze -- almost. It will have to do, until our next visit.
August 26, 2008
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Sewing as Art
Recently, my husband and I spent a delightful Sunday afternoon viewing the current exhibit, The Impressionists, at the Kimbell Art Museum. I was pleased to learn that several pieces depicted sewing or embroidering. While our fellow lovers of art were marveling at the use of color, the play of highlights and shadows, or the various brush stroke techniques, I was imagining what the ladies were creating, and admiring their dresses of fine fabrics and lace. Mostly, I wanted to step inside the paintings and join them.
Sometimes I think I was born in the wrong era. I adore old houses with their creaking floors and wavy glass windows. Delicate vintage china makes me smile. The patina of well loved silver soothes my soul. A handwritten note, on fine stationery, is like a visit with an old friend -- much more than a quick email or abbreviations in a text message.
Now, I wouldn't be completely honest if I did not admit to loving the convenience of dishwashers, washing machines and microwaves! A modern hair dryer and curling iron are my best friends. Yet, there are also those days when I long for a slower pace of life and a more genteel existence. It is often then that I pick up needle and thread and stitch by hand.
The painting above, A Young Mother Sewing, is by Mary Cassatt. She was an American painter, living from 1844 until 1926. This particular piece is not a part of the Kimbell exhibit. I discovered it when I began seeking more examples of sewing as art. Wouldn't you love to know what she is stitching? Is it a dress for that darling little girl at her knee, or maybe a sweet gown for a new baby in the family? We will never know. We can only imagine -- and pick up needle, thread and fabric to create our own masterpieces.
August 6, 2008
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July 4, 2008
Our Nation's Flag is a stirring sight
As it flutters proudly in the breeze
Its colors of blue, red and white
Mean so much to you and me.
Red stands for courage and hardiness.
The white means innocence and purity.
Blue for justice, perserverance and vigilance
In its promise to keep us free.
~Ode to the Flag, by Linda Sheehan Cunningham~
From my home to yours,
Happy Fourth of July!
God Bless these United States of America.
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A Father's Love
There's something like a line of gold thread running through a man's words when he talks to his daughter, and gradually over the years it gets to be long enough for you to pick up in your hands and weave into a cloth that feels like love itself.
~John Gregory Brown~
Dear Daddy, I miss you more and more each day. Yet your words of wisdom always guide me and your love always surrounds me.
Happy Father's Day!
June 15, 2008
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A Mother's Love
A MOTHER'S LOVE is like an island
In life's ocean vast and wide,
A peaceful, quiet shelter
From the restless, rising tide . . .
A MOTHER'S LOVE is like a fortress
And we seek protection there
When the waves of tribulation
Seem to drown us in despair . . .
A MOTHER'S LOVE is a sanctuary
Where our souls can find sweet rest
From the struggle and the tension
Of life's fast and futile quest . . .
A MOTHER'S LOVE is like a tower
Rising far above the crowd,
And her smile is like the sunshine
Breaking through a threatening cloud . . .
A MOTHER'S LOVE is like a beacon
Burning bright with faith and prayer,
And through the changing scenes of life
We can find a haven there . . .
For A MOTHER'S LOVE is fashioned
After God's enduring love,
It is endless and unfailing
Like the love of Him above . . .
For God knew in His great wisdom
That He couldn't be everywhere,
So He put his little children
In a LOVING MOTHER'S CARE.
~Helen Steiner Rice~
In memory of my mother who loved me unconditionally.
In honor of my son who taught me to love unconditionally.
To all the mothers -- those here to celebrate the day, as well as those dearly remembered and cherished always.
Happy Mother's Day!
May 11, 2008
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Mint Juleps for Everyone!
Grab your favorite hat,
Don't be late.
The horses are at the starting gate!
Happy Derby Day!
May 3, 2008
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Happy Birthday!!
BessieMary is two years old!
Thank you to all who have supported me, my dream and the store during these past 24 months. I could not have done it without your friendship, prayers and encouragement.
Now, if I could only figure out how to share this scrumptious little cupcake with each of you!
April 28, 2008
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Pondering the Poppy
Each morning, as I unlock the doors to BessieMary, I am greeted by a planter bursting with Spring blooms. I am especially fond of the Icelandic Poppies. The tissue thin, ruffled and wrinkled petals remind me of the lightly scented, rouged and powdered cheek of an older woman -- maybe a beloved grandmother, mother or aunt.
I marvel at how its fragile petals have withstood recent horrific winds, pounding rain and hail, and the ever changing temperatures of springtime in Texas. Its face is always looking toward the light. Even when the light seems to be hiding behind those storm clouds, its perky little face is looking upward.
To be like the poppy -- delicate, yet strong. Always looking toward, and seeking the light.
Lessons to be learned from a flower.
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Easter Blessings
Christ the Lord is Risen Today!
Hallelujah!
Easter Sunday 2008
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Ears First!
Admit it.
You do it, too!
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Hippity Hoppity!
Meet my favorite rabbit family!
Needlepointed by Mother.
Cherished by me.
Shared with you.
Are they not just the sweetest little bunnies?
And they do not eat the flowers in my garden, the way the real thing does!
Happy Egg Hunting!
Happy Easter Week!
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Spring is nature's way of saying "Let's party"
~Robin Williams~
The white of frost and snowflakes is replaced with Spring blooms. Sunshine squeezes past the clouds. Singing birds break Winter's silence.
Hope springs eternal.
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Happy Heart Day!
"Love is the master key that opens the gates of happiness."
May that someone special hold the key to your heart,
today and always.
Valentine's Day 2008
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Father Christmas
This is one of those decorations that always brings a smile to my face! I first spied this handmade Father Christmas in one of my favorite little shops about 14 years ago. It was a difficult holiday for our family, and spirits were rather low. Then I spied this kind face, and especially that little bunny in tow!
As a lover of rabbits, he had to be mine!
Each year, I admire his robe made of a vintage quilt, the bits and pieces of lace and other lovely fabrics. I think about the stories they could tell, and the people who once treasured them. I am so grateful for the artist who transformed them into something else so wonderful and delightful!
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Oh, Silent Night!
Sometimes the night was not so silent! Sometimes there was the loud crunch of a lost little lamb -- found underneath my or my husband's foot as we turned out the lights for the night. Our young son believed the staircase was the perfect field for shepherds to watch over their flock. Those three wise men needed to journey from the dining room to the living room. Baby Jesus also had a habit of disappearing -- only to reappear, on schedule, Christmas Morn! This nativity is held together by glue and memories. It was first purchased for my husband as a young boy. Yet, it is so symbolic -- not only the reason for the season, but also the glue. Faith, family, hope, joy and love -- the glue that holds all of us together.
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Jolly Old St. Nick!
Look what $1.75 could buy in the late 1950's! The jolly old elf with a bubbling light! I have the box to prove it. Thank goodness Grandmother Bessie did a good job of saving everything!
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Thanks, Mom!
My "grown up" needlepointed stocking. An angel, snow covered trees and a little lamb. Mostly memories of a very special mother -- her love for family, the holidays, and the needle.
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Holly Jolly!
What could be more jolly than a fabric frame, a vintage pattern cover and a sprig of holiday holly . . .
three holly jollies!
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Santa Claus is Coming to Town!
Now that the calendar pages have turned to December, we can talk Christmas! I believe in giving pumpkins, Pilgrims and turkeys plenty of time in the spotlight, before hanging the mistletoe and decorating the tree!
When the stockings are hung in our house, it is really Christmas! The one above was mine from birth -- always hanging in my parents' home. It always held an orange and candy canes on Christmas morn! I thought it was so cool that Santa's beard protected the opening and all the other goodies tucked inside. Some of the sequins have lost their luster, and a few more have disappeared through the years. In my eyes, it is still perfect!
The pattern used by Mother, is noticeably tattered. That is due to some extreme loving by two little girls. While the stockings were safely stored from December to December, the pattern was readily available in Mother's sewing room. It provided a great source for dreaming of future visits from Santa! My sister's stocking is the design on the far left. Hers was bigger, but mine was better!
Years later, Mother would needlepoint exquisite stockings for me and my new husband. Later, she would add one for our baby son. They are lovely, but this one will always be magical!
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Forever on Thanksgiving Day
The heart will find the pathway home.
-Wilbur P. Nesbit
This little Pilgrim couple used to grace my mother-in-law's table each and every Thanksgiving. I fell in love with them the moment I first spied them! Handmade, with bodies of large soda bottles, they became a cherished part of Thanksgiving celebrations.
Now, this little Pilgrim couple appears in my home. They still rest on the same mirror centerpiece, set upon the same mahogony table, surrounded by the same chairs. All those items now call our house "home".
Then, there are the little Pilgrim girl candles. These were part of Thanksgiving decorations in my girlhood home -- one for me and one for my sister! Watching over all the events of many Thanksgiving Days, a turkey plate from Grandmother Bessie's collection.
Over the years, the number of chairs occupied around the table has dwindled. Many beloved family members have been blessed with a seat at that Heavenly banquet table. However, they are always in our memories and hearts. Yes, on Thanksgiving Day the heart always finds the pathway home -- sometimes aided by simple reminders like little Pilgrim couples, a piece of pumpkin pie or some other treasured tradition of this special holiday.
May your heart be blessed with joyful gratitude and the closeness of family and friends.
Happy Thanksgiving Day!
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Please Come In!
For those of you unable to visit BessieMary in person, I thought you might enjoy seeing a bit of the store in pictures. Please meet one of my little persons in the photograph above! She is currently greeting people as they enter the store, but is known to quickly change clothes and locations on a whim!
In this corner is an assortment of gifts and fabrics.
Toward the rear of the store, is a table for perusing notebooks
filled with patterns, smocking plates, and lace samples.
The cutting table and more bolts of yummy fabrics! 
The class room and play area for little visitors!
The front doors through which so many special friends and customers pass! I hope that someday many more of you will be able to visit BessieMary! In the meantime, I hope you enjoyed this little tour. Thank you for visiting!
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Back to School!
What, you may ask, does a cigar box have to do with going back to school? If you are a child of my generation, it had everything to do with returning to the classroom! Each student showed up with their very own box -- a place to stow those pencils, erasers, crayons and rulers. In my hometown, the boxes were gladly handed over by the owners of the local restaurants. I guess we were actually being earth friendly and practicing the art of recycling without realizing it!
Was it coincidence that I stumbled upon this box recently? It was stashed with some of my father's belongings that were hidden away in a box, recently discovered and opened. This year, I have been missing the hustle and bustle of back to school shopping and preparation. With the recent college graduation of our only child, those days are long past. Then, I discover this box! Why did my father keep a simple, empty cigar box for over 40 years?
Did he also miss those days of holding a child's hand in his? A young daughter crawling up into his lap, and an older daughter seeking refuge in his embrace, as we tried to sort through the mysteries of education and life? Two sisters, skipping off to school, in their mommy-made dresses and their daddy-shined shoes? The dinner table cleared of its dishes, and replaced with heaps of books, tablets, and pencils? A remembrance of a more simple time?
Whatever the reason, I am so grateful that Daddy kept this box. I am so happy that I found it. I am so glad to share it with you. Whether in reality, or only in your memories, Happy Back to School!
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George E. (Skip) Prosser
1950-2007
July 26, 2007
The Wake Forest University Quad is draped in white. Normally, the Rolling of the Quad signifies the victorious outcome of a sporting event. This time it honors the life of Coach Skip Prosser.
His time with us was all too brief. The Wake Forest family feels a void that can never be filled. If we feel such a loss, we can not even begin to fathom the loss that his family must now be experiencing.
As the tributes continue to pour in, there is a common thread through all of them. Coach Prosser is not being remembered so much for the number of games he won, but for the number of lives he touched. Those of us touched by him are blessed. It is now our turn to touch lives and continue his legacy.
To his mother; his wife, Nancy; and his sons, Mark and Scott - our hearts and prayers are with you. May God hold you in the palm of His hand and bring you peace.
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What the Flag Means
The Flag is many things. It is a mark of identification of ships at sea and of armies in the field. It is a means of communication. When you see our Flag in front of a home, it says for all the world to read, "Here lives a family that is American in spirit as well as in name." The Flag is a mirror, reflecting to each person his own ideals and dreams. It is a history. Its thirteen stripes and fifty stars embrace a record written greatly during these years since 1776. It is a mark of pride in a great word -- the word "American." It is an aspiration of what small children want their lives to be. It is a memory at the end of life of all that life has been. It is a ribbon of honor for those who have served it well -- in peace and war. It is a warning not to detour from the long road that has brought our country and its people to a degree of prosperity and happiness never even approached under any other banner.
Edward F. Hutton
The flag in the photo above, covered the casket of my father five years ago next week. He loved the Fourth of July, perhaps because he knew so well how much it meant to serve this country in time of war. As we celebrate this holiday, let us not forget all the brave men and women who have served, are serving and will serve.
My father would often take my sister and me to the fireworks stands, which were much more plentiful in those days. Then, it was to the country roads outside the city limits of our hometown. However, one year, a roman candle misfired and burned my hand. Mother banned family fireworks after that.
Years later, I rediscovered the joy of fireworks through the eyes of my young son. We would spread our quilt on grassy knolls among those of other friends and neighbors, and wisely leave the detonation of the fireworks to the professionals. Each sparkling explosion was proclaimed to be the best one yet, but proved never to be quite as spectacular as the one to come!
May we apply that same line of thinking to all of our days, and to the days of our country. Our yesterdays were great, our today is even better, and may our tomorrows be spectacular!
Happy 4th of July! Happy Birthday, United States of America!
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May 2007
Spring! It is one of my favorite times of the year. It holds the promise of birth, new growth, sunshine and warmth. It is also the time we honor our mothers, congratulate graduates and bid a temporary adieu to books, school buses and homework!
It also means being able to gather a bouquet of roses and delight in their beauty and fragrance.
The season also seems to bring some of the brightest and most delightful fabrics and stitching opportunities. So, if you don't have a green thumb, just grab your scissors, some floral fabric and create a wearable garden instead!
Happy Spring from BessieMary to you!