I filled a book with some of the photos, from my Quilt Adventures. 

Local Quilt Time

Until 2020, I was also doing regular volunteering with local groups. I remember doing a boat theme in February of 2020. It was a fun one with my Senior group. That night I called my dad in Missouri. I told him about it my Quilt Group that day and the boat memories they shared. I wanted to hear his. 

Dad surprised me with his enthusiasm. He talked about commuting on the Staten Island Ferry... which had us both recalling the sounds of seagulls and smells of hotdogs and sauerkraut. Dad remembered fishing from Uncle Morris' rowboat. I reminded him that I learned to waterski behind Uncle Bob's speedboat. We had so much fun talking, that Dad actually agreed to have me come to his Assisted Living facility in Missouri for a Quilt Session. I was floored. Dad usually rolls his eyes at Bingo and other social activities. But he was game.

​Covid

But it never happened. Days after we spoke, the craziness of the Pandemic was suddenly upon us.   

Dad was in lockdown at his facility, where 2 of his friends died suddenly. Residents were isolated in their efficiency apartments for months. Meals were brought to the rooms and phones became the only connection with friends and family. Dad and I talked daily, but his landline gave no visuals. We described our worlds to each other. Birds at the feeder... new leaves in spring... I worried over his isolation, but felt more connected in many ways. We never had daily talks before. 

Picnic October 2020

It was over a half year, before Don and I talked about making a safe trip from Texas to Missouri. We wouldn't be allowed inside his facility, but we had permission to take Dad out on a picnic. I thought about the quilt.

In months before, I'd shared stories about the Quilt, during our phone chats. He knew I regularly used it to gather groups. He'd heard a little about all the places the Quilt had been. Mexico and Chile, California and Iowa. He was my captive audience on those phone calls. I rambled a lot.

After many months, folded up in a closet, I suddenly spread the freshly laundered quilt on a picnic table in Springfield, Missouri. Kids call it the Magic Quilt. And it often does magically bring kids and adults closer together, as we gather around it and share activities. I hoped for some magic with our Pandemic picnic, but you never know with Dad. 

For a good 20 minutes our Quilt Theme was all about Steak-n-Shake! We oooed and ahhhed over the burgers and fries and shakes, fresh from the drive-thru. 

It felt so good to be at that table. The air never felt so pleasant and the fast food picnic couldn't have tasted better. 

Dad gave the Quilt a proper look and he seemed pleased to finally see it after all my talk. He was just curious enough to satisfy me. But this really wasn't about the Quilt. After 7+ months of daily calls, it was really about being together in person. Having conversations and seeing each other's expressions. Now that was magical!

When our backs tired of the wood bench, we moved to chairs.

We kept a safe distance (as we'd promised) and chatted some more.

When our voices tired, we looked through books and photos and laughed at videos of Dad's 2 great grandkids, on my cellphone. 
​
​As we packed up to leave, I noticed a yellow sign.

I guess we did as the sign suggested. Let's Be Together-ish.  

I'm sad thinking back, that I never pulled off a group Quilt Gathering at Dad's facility. It's 2024, nearly a year since Dad passed. But I'm glad the Quilt made it to Missouri. I'm glad I have a memory of sitting around the old patchwork thing with Dad, on a beautiful October afternoon. I miss him.
​

I became a grandmother just over a year ago. My focus was suddenly on little Charlie, who lived 2,000 miles away in Oregon.

​I recently packed up the 30 year old quilt, along with Pickles, the Puppet. We headed 2.5 hours to Austin to spend a week with Char and her parents.

After nearly 30 years of gathering with kids on the Quilt, I suddenly had the chance to spend a little Quilt Time, with my very own grandchild!

It's been years since the Quilt traveled to a school in Guatemala, or an Alzheimer's Facility in Utah. ​Or a Family Shelter in Galveston.

It's been 18 years since my daughter first volunteered with me (and Quilt) at a local shelter. It's been a decade since the 2 of us had a spontaneous Quilt Adventure with kids at a school in Mexico. I miss teaming up with Heidi for Quilt Adventures.

With Charlie

So on a pretty day in May, Heidi planned to meet up with old friends in Texas. I've known these girls since they played in middle school band.

Heidi's friends are married now. Some with kids. I had the quilt in the car... just in case.

Cozy Quilt

I wasn't playing teacher this time. I was just a grandma with a colorful quilt. There was no program. No gym floor. 

We just put the quilt on the floor and it did what it always does. It created a cozy space. It felt like a patchwork island for a while. Pickles came out and met Christopher, the oldest. (he was a little hesitant)

Charlie wasn't bashful. At 1 year, she knows me just enough. Too young to be worried over the funny furry face.

There were just 3 kiddos. Quinny, Christopher and Charlie. And one more, in the oven. And then there were the moms...

Besides having my granddaughter on the Quilt for the first time, there was something extra sentimental about this bunch gathered together.

These girls were part of my team at the Women's Shelter for a number of years. They helped me corral kiddos onto the colorful patchwork, once a week. 

They danced and sang with the kids, who needed their attention so very much! And here they were these sweet girls... with their own little ones (& future little one) showing the same enthusiasm and tenderness I spotted years ago.

So many special Quilt Memories over the decades. This one will be hard to beat.

After some icebreaker songs and games, we did a little problem solving to get Pickles out of his sleeping bag. The kids giggled at the snoring they heard in the bag. Then they took turns singing "wake up", into the lumpy bag. Such sweet voices.
​
Face Mask And Puppets

During 2 years of pandemic, I've wondered about volunteering with a mask. We're all aware of how masks inhibit communication. Muffled voices and hidden expressions are so unhelpful. 

​Then again, a mask could give me a little advantage when using Pickles the puppet! 

Off With Her Mask

Actually the mask came off, when I found out it wasn't required. Pickles was awake and ready to meet the kids. Each child introduced himself to Pickles. The short conversations were sweet. Even though the puppet was on my arm, the kids stayed focused on the puppet.

Pickles asked ages and commented on cool shirts or colorful sneakers. Finally, the little boy, who had been the most rambunctious, had his turn. He stared Pickle's in his plastic eyes. "Can I tell you a secret?" Pickles said sure and I stretched the puppet towards the young boy. He cupped his hands and whispered quietly. 

I started to move on, then the little guy lit up. "Pickles! Can you tell my secret to everyone?" GULP. I hadn't heard the secret. Now I didn't know what the boy and Pickles knew. I stalled by having Pickles whisper in my ear. Then I spoke for the shy puppet, "Pickles said he's a good secret keeper. He can't tell."

The little boy cheered Pickles on to tell the secret. It seemed clear to me that he wasn't testing my puppetry skills. I can recognize that. He was upbeat with his giddy insistence, or I would have been more worried about handling this correctly. The idea of keeping secrets can have a different meaning at a rescue shelter. 

So I quickly decided Pickles should just be silly. "Are you sure I can tell?" Pickles asked. The puppet paused, then announced. "The secret is, the moon is really made of purple cheese!" The kids all giggled, but the boy encouraged Pickles again, to tell the group. Pickles spoke, "It's going to rain cats and dogs today!" 

The kids laughed, but the boy was playfully annoyed. "Okay, Pickles, I'll tell you again."

This time I leaned in along with Pickles, so the puppet could share the secret with confidence. The little boy had wanted the kids to know that he was in 5th grade! Whew. That simple and silly secret was basically a tall tale, from a 5-year-old. It wasn't anything bigger than that. We all quickly moved on to bigger and better things.

What did I learn?

​Listen carefully in the future! After all these years, you wouldn't think I'd be stumped by something so simple. 

I still am not able to return to my usual groups, because the facilities haven't opened up for volunteers yet. But I had an opportunity to help somewhere else on Tuesday.

Help Needed

In August, I studied the news and worried over heartbreaking scenes in Afghanistan. My daughter in law (who works with refugees through IRC, in Sacramento) gave me even more insight. When I heard that Afghan families were arriving in Houston, I hoped I could help.

I signed up for a Zoom volunteer info meeting, then rushed to get my background check and training records in order. Suddenly I was on a list to volunteer at a hotel in Houston, where 20 Afghan families were temporarily housed.

Added Stress

On Tuesday morning I headed into Houston. I knew I would be delivering meals to families. I was just showing up to help. I wasn't in charge. That was sort of a nice feeling. Usually my volunteering involves lots of planning and packing of props. All I had to pack up was a face mask.

This was a little scary. Who would I be communicating with? Would I be putting myself at risk for Covid exposure, after 18 months of caution? I let myself trust my vaccine. But then the freeway came to a halt. I was 40 minutes late when I arrived at the hotel.

I was thrilled to be able to help with the kids, instead of meal delivery. For the next 3 hours, I helped out with 3 different groups of kids.
​
Communicating

It was awkward at first. There were a few volunteers and one interpreter. The children spoke Farsi and I spoke English, with a mask covering my mouth. Oh how I longed for my quilt and all the props, that have helped me communicate with kids in the past. But I reminded myself, that I wasn't in charge. This wasn't my gig. I just wandered the room, showing encouragement when kids looked my way.

The older children seemed a little lost and timid, as they reached for the materials. But before long they began to draw and talk quietly. I tried to encourage without intruding. Who wants to draw with some adult breathing down your back?  But I soon realized they could read my eyes and understand my short comments or questions. The younger children seemed much more comfortable reaching out for help. I was able to joke a little with them. I pointed to their pictures of ice cream cones or dinosaurs and pantomimed silly, 10 second stories. I began to feel like my old volunteer self.

Kids in Crisis

I've volunteered many times, with kids in crisis. For years I've gathered with children, housed at the local Women's Shelter. I've helped at temporary Houston shelters, where families have evacuated from hurricanes and floods.  

Some kids talk more comfortably, when their hands are busy. Sometimes kids draw, then end up sharing insight, with the images they draw.

Hearts and Rainbows

The kids on Tuesday, were very different than the others. Their art gave me no hints of what they might have dealt with when they escaped Afghanistan. 

Maybe drawing hearts and houses and rainbows, was the fun escape, that many of these kids needed. Mostly their artwork was positive and bright. They may not have spoken English, but many knew the word LOVE.

What Did I Learn?

​Over the years I've volunteered with lots of kids who don't speak my language. It's always been a challenge, but I've loved finding ways to use games and props, along with facial and body expression. On Tuesday, I learned just how exhausting it is to communicate without words and with only half a face showing! Thank goodness I've never had Botox or I might have had a harder time communicating with my eyes!

During these past pandemic months, I've been looking forward to returning to my volunteer work, with kids and senior groups. It will be strange and wonderful to eventually gather around the old quilt again. I need to prepare myself for some rough restarts!

Volunteering with Refugees in 2017

Today, I'm remembering another time when I had a break from volunteering. It was nearly 5 years ago. I had sort of a failed attempt with my quilt.

​ It was February 2017 and I was just getting back to volunteering, after some time off with cancer. I had some big concerns about our new president and his words about immigrants. I knew Houston was a welcoming city and I wanted to help.

I found a Houston program that was reaching out, to support and educate immigrants. They needed someone to watch kids, while "Moms" took classes. Babysitting is not my thing, but I was happy to bring my quilt once a week and entertain, with some puppets and songs and games.

Babysitting

Minutes after arriving on that first day, the quilt became buried under toys and toddlers. The mothers were uneasy about leaving their kids with me. I didn't speak their language and I hadn't earned their trust. 

I was in that room for only an hour, but it felt like days. Every trick that I've used as a teacher and mother in 40 years, seemed to fail. I was too busy to distract, with my playful songs and cheerful games. Too busy, snatching "choke hazards" out of toddlers' mouths and loosening little fists that held chunks of hair, or clobbered with toys. The stuffy room was hot and I worked up a good sweat, as I leapt from the floor numerous times to keep kids from escaping down the hall. 

After 1 hour, the moms returned. The room was a mess and so was I. I returned the next week, thinking surely things would be better. But my quilt and I failed again and I wished them luck finding a new babysitter. I went back to my regular "Around the Quilt" program, with kids and seniors, at the places I loved and missed.

What Did I Learn?

Sometimes it's really good to allow yourself to quit. I don't do that often. I always feel if I just work hard enough, I can make it work. I could have demanded a helper and cleared that room of dangerous toys and learned how to communicate better with kids and moms. But I was too tired. I was still growing back hair and gaining new strength. It felt wonderful to step back and just say "No. I can't do this." 

​I guess this is sort of a good memory after all.

But I never got around to posting about the early March gathering, because Coronavirus suddenly took all my focus. But now I look at these sweet photos and remember our day.

These are the dear friends, that I gathered with. We laughed and shared stories about favorite books. 

We wondered about the most common books you can find in a home? Some said cookbook. Others said the Bible. 

We talked about books that are filled with art, or poems or music! 

We talked about kids learning to read and the fun of reading to children. 

Some remembered old classics like Tom Sawyer and Alice in Wonderland.

Odd and Tiny Books
​
​Some liked the tiniest books best.

Most were surprised to find books made from wood.

Books That Keep Memories
​
​No one in my groups said they had ever written a book.

But many kept diaries and made scrapbooks. I can't believe I still have an autograph book from first grade.

​Books Filled with Friends and Family
​
​Most everyone had at least one photo book or album.

 No one remembered having a book like my grandmother's. I loved sharing "Daw's" special book, which was completed by her friends... who described themselves. 

What Do We Put in Books?
​
​We brainstormed things that you might find in a book...

...besides a bookmark. Money, was the favorite answer.
​

Some said they love coloring books... but a few were not happy to see an antique nursery rhyme book, with crayon marks on the pages.  Pat announced, "Children shouldn't write in books!" I answered defensively,  "I didn't color in that book! Not guilty!"  

2016

As I looked back at the photos from March, I recalled the last time I did a book theme, around the quilt. I found photos from 2016 in May. I failed to post about this gathering as well.

In the spring of 2016, I was distracted by another issue that kept me from gathering with my Quilt Groups, for many months. Shortly after these photos were taken, I was diagnosed with cancer and put my volunteering on hold. 

Some of the Gang in 2020

When I left this group after our get-together on March 3, I didn't realize what was ahead.

We all knew about Covid, but on March 3, there had been less than 10 U.S. deaths. I didn't know that Texas would be joining other states with Stay at Home restrictions, in just a couple weeks. 

I'm missing these folks and hoping that all are well. I have no guesses about when we'll actually be able to gather around the Quilt again. 
​

It's always a fun time. Everyone has memories or thoughts about boats.

Morning Group

​In both senior groups, the old sailing ship got the most attention. In the morning at the center, Ms. M turned it over and over, looking at the curved sails, made of cut horns.

​Everyone wondered if the little ship would sink if we put it in a pond.

Ms. M said she'd never been on a boat. But she described standing on the riverbank with her brother and jumping up and down, waving to the boats that passed by.

Boats for Work

We compared boats for pleasure and boats for work. Ms. W remembered a stormy cruise, where everyone on board got sick but her.

The little boat from Thailand, reminded Mrs. D of the boats she saw in Guam, when her husband was in the service. She described buying food from the floating shops.

Toy Boats

Some could remember toy boats, on ponds, in puddles... in bathtubs.

Many remembered making boats from newspaper. I remembered watching my own homemade, popsicle-stick boat collapse... as the water softened the Elmer's glue. 

​Movies, Books and Songs

We brainstormed movies and books, with a focus on boats or ships.

I played some recorded music that related to our theme. "Michael Row the Boat Ashore" put everyone in a thoughtful mood. When I asked for a boat themed song suggestion, there was a pause. Then Mrs. W's voice began in almost a whisper. I didn't recognize the old spiritual, but most of the others did and began to join in.  

We sat around the quilt, ignoring all the boats and books. For quite some time, I listened as the group went from one song to the next. The group swayed and many closed their eyes, as they hummed and sang. 

My usually loud and playful group, had a sweetly subdued tone. As one hymn blended into the next I recognized the words that linked the music. Sea... anchors... sailing... piloting... I watched their eyes smile, each time a new song was introduced. I've never seen this group, so soft and peaceful.

Canoe

Eventually the focus went back to the table. Ms. H was drawn to the green canoe. She picked it up and told a story about working for the Red Cross and using a canoe for rescue. There was a waterfall and an alligator in her story... oh my! As talking continued, Mrs. W's grandson arrived to take her to the doctor. The group greeted the young man and  wanted to know if he had any boat memories to share. He smiled shyly and said he couldn't think of any. ​

Suddenly, Ms M. reached over and handed the grandson a handwritten bible verse. This is what she does. I always tuck mine in a pocket, but he stopped and studied the words. Then he lowered his head and spoke softly, "Thank you. It's been a hard week." One by one the folks at the table stood and gave him a hug. He wiped his eyes and thanked them. What an amazing, gentle group.

Afternoon

My memory care group in the afternoon was very different, but they were also full of sweet surprises. The sleepy, after-lunch group, was nodding off around the table when I arrived. I hoped the boats would liven things up.

I spread the quilt and unloaded one boat at a time. I held up the red rowboat, with its  one oar. They all seemed to recognize the type of boat, but no one could come up with the name. Frances shook her head and laughed. "You'd go in circles if you just had one paddle!" I could see her mind working, in her eyes.

Fisherman
​
I told the group that this little fisherman and boat, was made by a man in Guatemala.

"Where is Guatemala?" Someone asked. I fumbled to find a map on my phone, but Mr. George took over. He had been so quiet before. I worried that he didn't want to be there. But he seemed to come to life. "That's in Central America!"  He announced with confidence.

Mark Twain

We got off on a tangent about the Mississippi River, when I held up the plastic raft.

"Rafts always makes me think of a famous author." I began. "He was a writer, but he also once piloted a steamboat on the Mississippi." Maureen waved a hand. It took a moment and then she announced with delight, "Mark Twain!" I cheered and held up the book. Maureen reminded me, that she had been a librarian for many years. 

Packing Up

For nearly 90 minutes, my group around the quilt shared and laughed and sang and surprised me with their stories. What a sharp and giving bunch! I thanked them all and told them how I would be thinking about their stories for days. Mr. George suggested, "Next time bring a tape recorder and you'll be able to remember forever." 

I packed up as the group headed out, but Chickie wanted to stay a while longer. At one point she leaned towards me and smiled with an outreached hand. "Thank you so much for coming and sharing." I held her hand and assured her that I was the one who needed to do the thanking. Then she explained gently, "You help us remember and you help us think in a different way." I was touched... and then I was amused. She laughed and pointed to my gigantic tote bag. "What does your husband think of all that stuff of yours?"

Back Home

I drove home smiling. I know my afternoon group will not remember what we did. Most won't even remember me. But they reminded me to enjoy the memories, for the moment.  

As I unpacked my stuff at home, I couldn't stop thinking about all the wonderful people I'd spent time with. Some aren't much older than me, but many are the same age as my parents. And that made me think...
​

Of course he couldn't think off the top of his head. Few can. But after a bit, we were laughing over memories of Central Park in 1964, when my brother's model boat floated out of reach.

I grabbed my patchwork, wraparound skirt and headed off with bundles of cozy quilt stuff! I love this crazy thing from Guatemala. The design is crude, but the fabrics are fabulous!

Tiny Quilts... Unfinished Quilts

I covered the table with this and that and let the folks examine.

I needed no planning. The colors and designs got everyone talking.

This unfinished piece is always a favorite. Questions fly! Which square is your favorite? How many squares are there? Which one is the most different? Why was it never finished? Is it perfect? What does perfect even mean?

Children's Books

Why are there so many children's books about quilts? Well... then why do kids love quilts?

These books have gotten some love over the years. I've always enjoyed watching both adults and children absorbing the wonderful illustrations in these books. The words in a few of them, are as cozy and comforting as a quilt.

Sharing

There was some nice book sharing, in my morning and afternoon gatherings.

I loved watching this pair, pointing out the quilts in the illustrations. 

Another pair, looked over the Patchwork Picnic book. ​

Suddenly the whole table began talking about picnic quilts. What kinds of food might you eat, while sitting on a picnic quilt? 

Depends on if you put the quilt on a table or the grass! 

It reminded her of a quilt her mother made. We decided quilts can display the best kind of recycling!

Simple Design

Some were drawn to the quilts with complicated designs. Some preferred the quilt from Mexico, made simply with squares.

"Look! You can see the hand stitching! This is my favorite!"

Music and Wooden Quilts

I played a few recordings of songs, related to quilts. I had to dig pretty hard to find "Quilt Songs". I passed out lots of wooden shapes while the music played.

It was nice to have something to do with our hands while we listened to the lyrics, about quilts. One song made us all stop and listen. A man's voice sang about his mother's dedication to quilting... he described her focus and patience... 

"Do any of you remember your mother quilting?" I asked my morning group. I was totally surprised when no one said yes. Two said their mothers were too busy working to make quilts. 

The Traveling Quilt

I told my afternoon group, that I used to do volunteer quilt gatherings when I traveled. I showed them the "new quilt" that's in progress... made with all the squares that adults and kids have decorated, on my visits to schools and centers in different states and countries.

The odd and colorful thing has been buried in my closet for quite a while now. I haven't lugged my quilt and props on a trip in 3 years. As I saw the folks sitting around, pointing to the fun fabrics and smiling over the messages, it made me realize I've gotten lazy. 

What Did I Learn?

The enthusiasm of others can be so motivating. I got home in the late afternoon and made myself some tea in my favorite mug.

Maybe I need to challenge myself some more. It's hard these days to "get the okay" to volunteer, when you're far away in a new town or even a different country. Organizations that work with kids or the elderly have good reason to be cautious about volunteers.

But maybe getting the okay, is a little part of the Quilt Adventure that I love. I think I'll try to push myself and think about taking my quilt on the road again.  
​

I tried to keep it simple and keep it calm, which is actually very hard for me.

​After a bit, I brought out a bag of about 25 old Beanie Babies.

I told the kids the animals were looking for homes, if anyone cared to adopt. These were not gifts... gifts are usually new. 


​How sweet to see the faces of the kids, as I put the stuffed pets in the middle of the quilt.

We talked about where the Beanie Babies came from. The kids wanted to know how old my kids were now.

​They seemed more drawn to the ones that looked the most loved. And they liked the idea that my grown kids wanted the animals to be cared for. It's nice to be needed.

Like I said, it's sometimes hard for me, to be totally calm.

20+ years Ago

The kids at the Shelter had wanted to know about my kids. As I drove home I thought about 1996, when my kids were young and Beanie Babies were a big deal. Christmas was simple and life was good. My kids and their friends knew the names of every Beanie Baby that was sold...

My kids didn't know much about shelters and abuse. But a few years later, they began volunteering at the Women's Shelter. I remember the conversations, driving home in the car, after spending time at the Shelter. They learned  a lot from those visits.

​We still have a lot of Beanie Babies living in an upstairs closet. My kids have happily allowed me to share their collection over the years, so you'd think they'd all be gone. It's kind of fun to know there are Heidi & Scott Beanie Babies, living in New Mexico and Arizona... Mexico and Guatemala. ​

​I gave Wrinkles a bell and a place of honor downstairs. We won't have kids in the house for Christmas this year, but we have lots of fun reminders! 

​Merry Christmas!
​

We talked about the obvious... favorite trees and what's good about trees.

Tree Color

We don't have much fall in Texas and many of my Quilt Seniors haven't ever left the state.

But we still talked about trees in autumn. We talked about the colors and the shapes of leaves. We talked about the smell of fallen leaves... and the chores.

People in Trees
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We talked about climbing trees.

Some remembered climbing as kids. No one remembered climbing a tree as an adult...  except me.

Tall Trees

We talked about the tallest trees.

Redwoods and tall palms... that need adults to climb them, to remove dead fronds.

​Dead Trees

We talked about how beautiful trees can be, even when they're not alive anymore.

We decided the best non-living tree, is a decorated Christmas tree! But it's also the most aggravating tree, when it falls over!

Petrified
​
​We even talked about fossilized trees... which I know little about.

We decided branches can be the most beautiful part of a tree, even without lights.

Fake Trees

Besides dead trees, there are other trees that aren't alive.

Fake Christmas trees... and tree sculptures!

Decorated Trees!

Since it was December, we talked a lot about Christmas trees and lights.

Lighting outside trees is a more complicated task, than decorating the tree in the house!

We wondered if the shoes hanging from this tree, were considered decorations.

We were quite sure the Mardi Gras beads were considered a decoration. They were hanging from a palm tree in New Orleans.

Live Things in Trees

I shared my favorite tree photo. 

I took the photo years ago at Brazos Bend State Park at dawn. The birds in this tree were incredibly loud!

Hanging from Trees

We talked about all the things that hang from trees... like children and birdhouses.

Stained glass windows hanging from a tree, can look pretty fun.  But not as much fun as a swing.

Holes and Words

We talked about mysterious holes in trees. Sometimes there are hidden treasures.

We talked about damage to trees, by beavers or nails or pocket knives...

Trees in Art

And we talked about trees in art. 

Many remembered drawing trees as children. Stick people, houses, suns and TREES. Pretty much everyone mastered drawing those few things, as a child.

Our Tree

I had a few branches scattered on the table. We propped them up and created some trees, while we talked.

We added some leaves and pinecones and some candy canes, since it was December. It was sort of simple and silly and just about right.

What Did I Learn? 

​I love simple themes.