There are many scents that evoke the Christmas season – pine and citrus,
peppermint and gingerbread,
the spices of mulled wine and cider,
cookies being baked.
In the Christmastime series, https://a.co/d/7VG17Qu , old-fashioned ways of celebrating Christmas are woven throughout,
and the scents of Christmas play a big part. Especially the use of citrus and pine.
Greenery decorating a doorframe, mantel, or table,
sprigs of pine and cedar scattered throughout the house.
The cloves and citrus of pomander balls,
the preparation of orange-slice ornaments scenting the kitchen.
Scents can be powerful triggers of holiday traditions and good memories. Evergreens and colorful citrus fruits have the added benefit of also being beautiful and wholesome –
old-fashioned, natural seasonal decorations with scents that are both invigorating and calming.
This holiday, add some beauty and scent to your holiday decor with a bit of woodland greenery and refreshing citrus.
Stars and stargazing often make their way into my stories. Beautifully symbolic of hopes and dreams, purity and wonder, they help to tell the inner stories of many of my characters.
Stars play a key role in the fourth book of the Christmastime series, Christmastime 1942: A Love Story (https://a.co/d/j2wI35u). Beginning with the storyline of Gino, the merchant seaman, the topic of stars develops into a unifying connection between him, Tommy and Gabriel, and Charles and Lillian.
The ethereal quality of stars also reveals the quietly eccentric character of Edith. She is comfortable with both the dreamy and pragmatic sides of her nature — and she is in love for the first time.
She opened the drawer to her nightstand and reached for her tin of oil pastels. She lifted the lid, and ran her fingers over the colors, choosing deep Prussian blue and cobalt, gold, silver, and umber. … A sketch emerged of two large pillows, a rumpled comforter, a soft bed under a large window. The night world outside dotted with stars. “Colors of midnight,” she wrote beneath it. She studied the bed, and added a few more lines, and then sprinkled a dusting of stars onto the pillows and blanket.
The main character, Lillian, is under pressure from her demanding boss to submit an idea for a poster contest. With the deadline looming, and despairing over the war and Charles’s imminent return to battle, she awakens in the middle of the night, seeking solace and inspiration.
She quietly went into the living room and turned on the lamp behind the couch. There was the telescope, pointing up, as if in readiness to search the heavens. She was glad for the stars, for their high, untouched beauty that could not be sullied by war, by humanity. She took out her sketch pad and pencils and began to draw.
A sketch began to take shape of a wounded soldier and his sweetheart looking at the same night sky, though thousands of miles apart. [Lillian] added more stars to the skies, trying to convey the belief that high above a war-torn world, the glittering firmament shone benevolently over earth, and that in the end, all would be well and whole again. Simple, humble, human love would help to piece the world back together again.
In The Notebooks of Honora Gorman: Fairytales, Whimsy, and Wonder (https://a.co/d/8Z1Igqu), the stars also offer inspiration for an artistic deadline, this time, a writing assignment.
Though Honora missed the stars, the lights of the city at night made up for it. She loved the contrast between the workaday gray of Manhattan and the magical, sparkling nights. The city, especially when viewed from afar, shone like a glittering firmament. A reversal of sorts, as if the starry night sky had been flipped to earth. She would never forget her first arrival, approaching the massive metropolis at night – entranced by the wide expanse of twinkly lights, a galaxy of stars that stretched as far as she could see.
Struggling to find an idea for her children’s writing class, Honora hits upon an idea.
What was that seedling trying to root in her story – something about the sky? The night sky. And how she missed it. Stars! She flooded with inspiration. And the fairytale, “Fallen Star” flows from her pen.
And So We Dream (https://a.co/d/0iM4uab) In another connection to the stars and the artist figure, the young dream-filled actress, Vita Vitale, also connects with the stars. In the beginning of the story, she and her older sister tell their younger sister about swimming in the lake at night.
“Did you guys go swimming—and not tell me?”
“We didn’t plan it,” said Anne. “After Diane’s we went out to the lake and . . .”
“In the dark?”
“Under the stars and a crescent moon,” said Vita. “A Pierrot moon, full of dreams. It was wondrous! Absolutely magical.”
Beth looked around the back seat to see if she was sitting on anything wet, then checked the floor. “Where are your swimsuits?” After a moment’s silence, she gasped. “You went skinny dipping?”
Anne shot Beth a warning glance in the rearview mirror. “Don’t you dare say anything about it at home.”
“I won’t. But I can’t believe it. Were there any boys there?” After no answer, she said, “You guys! Weren’t you embarrassed?”
“It was dark,” said Anne.
“Except for the glimmer on the water. It was like swimming through a thousand tiny stars.” Vita turned around to face them. “It was so beautiful…Like swimming in a fairy world.”
Later, far from her dreams, and weighed down by disappointment and a sense of failure, she taps into the beauty and magic of the night sky.
The warm summer night held the faint scents of grass and flowers. Vita inhaled deeply and filled her eyes with the inky sky aglitter with stars….Vita was alone. But didn’t feel at all lonely. This is what has been missing, she told herself. An infusion of beauty. And here it was. Right overhead. A fragrant summer night filled with shooting stars. Vita lay back and filled her eyes with the starscape….This is the counter to sadness, she thought. Beauty. Wonderment….She felt a profound sense of connection, and a reconnection to her dreams. It all came from the same deep place of beauty and love and yearning.
And a closing thought:
“The star-filled wonder of the night sky makes me magnificently small.” – Honora Gorman (from one of her many scraps of writing)
It’s easy to create the feeling of contentment that comes from coziness and simple pleasures. Fresh flowers, the scent of baking pervading your home, music softly playing in the background.
The colder weather — especially with the approach of Christmastime — lends itself to creating such an atmosphere. It can start with using a favorite cup for your morning tea, or a piece of toast with jam, or the scent of coffee and a warm muffin.
I like to think that my Christmastime series captures, to some degree, the sense of pleasure and comfort: the scent of pine, a fire crackling in the fireplace, a radiator hissing and filling a cold apartment with warmth, the laughter of children.
Though the backdrop to the series is WWII and life on the home front is full of struggles and hardship, the overall tone of the series is uplifting and comforting.
Sad things happen, shocking events take place, but the characters roll up their sleeves and do their part to make the best of things. Love, family, friendship, and neighborliness are in the forefront and shape the stories.
Celebrating life — its holidays, the seasons, small day-to-day beauties, the quest for meaning — fill the pages of Christmastime.
So as the temperatures drop and the holidays approach, experience a sense of well-being for yourself. Fix a cozy hot drink, turn on a lamp or light a candle, and grab a warm blanket. Then nestle into your favorite reading chair and snuggle up with CHRISTMASTIME.
I recently came across a line (incorrectly attributed to Emerson?) that nevertheless caught my attention: She is rich who owns the day…
I love the sentiment and recognize the same spirit in my character of The Dreams of Youth, a very short collection of stories that tell the larger story of one woman.
These six interrelated pieces tell the story of Maggie, a vibrant individual who is also Everywoman: daughter, dreamer, nurse, friend, wife, mother. Spanning over eighty-five years, they follow her from her youth in Depression-era Illinois to the time when she ventures forth to 1940’s Hollywood and coastal California, and her return to the rural Midwest. Bittersweet and poignant, celebratory and inspiring, these stories portray the exuberance of youth, the delight of friendship, the adventure of going forth into the world, and the disappointment and heartache that are a part of life.
Maggie.
Always running, dreaming, adventurous, and daring.
Where others saw weeds, Maggie saw wishes.
Leafy treetops were enough to fuel her dreams.
And the dream of the ocean sustained her for a lifetime.
I was so sure that Christmastime 1945 would be last book in the Christmastime series — just as I was sure that Christmastime 1940 would be the first book. Yet all it took was the suggestion that perhaps I could write a brief prequel, and then a maybe think about a short sequel, perhaps a Valentine’s Day book, and those little planted seeds grew into two more books.
Once again, I’m sure that the series is now complete. However, at this point, I’ve learned never to say never.
Here’s a link to a post related to the series: Valentine’s Day in Mrs. Kuntzman’s Kitchen: https://bit.ly/3J1tP0g
And for those of you who haven’t read one of my earliest books (short short stories), it will be FREE on Amazon Kindle from February 1st-5th, and available on Kindle Unlimited through March.
Ah, the bustle of Christmas! Decorating your house for the holidays, cooking traditional family favorites,
shopping. Braving the crowds, the weather, the choices —
and returning home to relax with a mug of hot chocolate or a cup of tea.
In the Christmastime Series, Christmas shopping adds a sense of merriment and celebration to the season — whether it’s Lillian preparing for Christmas Night at the Brooklyn department store where she works (Christmastime 1939),
or Mrs. Murphy taking a store escalator up to the “North Pole” toy section to do some shopping for her nieces and nephews (Christmastime 1941),
or Izzy stopping to enjoy the window displays as she walks to work (Christmastime 1943),
or the sisters Ursula and Jessica browsing at the small-town stores in rural Illinois.
Christmas shopping. The sparkle of lights and tinsel, the scent of pine and cloves, the sounds of bells ringing and Christmas caroling heighten enjoyment of the season and deepen the pleasure of gift-giving.
A nostalgic look at the summers of not so long ago…
(The fictional small town of Greenberry is the setting for my latest novel, And So We Dream.)
Back when watermelons had shiny black seeds set in deep ruby red.
Back when corn was grown in wide discernable rows, “knee-high by the Fourth of July.”
Back when the sky was clear of satellite dishes and cellphone towers, when a bike ride uptown to the concert on the square or to the ice cream shop was high adventure.
And dreams were the soul and sustenance of three teenage girls — Anne, Vita, and Beth — and Joey, the twelve-year-old boy who spends the summer with them.
Coming from Chicago, “Joey thinks of the small town of Greenberry as ‘boyland’ – a world of riding bikes, fishing, going barefoot, and the county fair.”
A place where summer meant vegetables fresh from the garden,
and evenings were for enjoying homemade ice cream with neighbors.
When the days were filled with lemonade stands and swimming,
and all the skies were cotton candy skies.
And the magic of summer came from the belief that everything begins with a dream.
(Images from my Pinterest boards.)
“A brilliantly engaging, entertaining, and at times poignant coming-of-age story, ‘And So We Dream’ is a compelling read … that will linger in the mind and memory of the reader long after the book is finished and set back upon the shelf. From the author of the ‘Christmastime’ series, ‘And So We Dream‘ is unreservedly recommended…” -the MIDWEST BOOK REVIEW
“A dream garden is better than no garden at all. At least your mind is filled with flowers and color and beauty. And I think, without even being aware of it, we slowly move towards what we hold in our minds.” (Words from Millie to her daughter Vita in my novel And So We Dream)
If I had a garden, I’d take my breakfast there.
I’d find a hammock or a garden chair and enjoy the peaceful shade.
I’d invite a friend to join me for lunch among the blooms,
and I’d find a quiet spot in the fragrant afternoons.
In the garden’s comfort, I’d indulge in a book or two,
and include a pot of tea and a floral china cup.
And in the scented evenings, the garden all aglow,
I’d sleep among the flowers and dream the sweetest dreams.
Anne, Vita, Beth. They were hippie girls. Teenagers. Long flowing hair, embroidered peasant tops, long skirts, dangling earrings, bare feet. Pulled one way by the tradition of their small Mid-Western town, another by the promise of the wide world outside.
Twelve-year-old Joey Roland spends the summer with them while his parents “work things out.” He soon discovers that, like the home he left behind in Chicago, the small town of Greenberry is also filled with sadness – loss, betrayal, fears, and disappointment.
The difference is that the three sisters – especially the middle one who pursues the path of acting – teach him how to infuse ordinary life with magic, adventure, and joy.
The result is a summer of transformation, and, for Joey, new-found confidence in his dream path.
