INA AND THE GINGERBREAD PAGEANT, INTRO

 "This is the first Christmas I ever spent without the voice of one of my children in the house.”

Thanksgiving Day, November 30, 1933

As was her habit after Thanksgiving dinner, Ina sat in her comfortable overstuffed rocking chair beside the dining room window, counting her blessings and also contemplating her celebration of Christmas, now just 24 days away. Thanksgiving came late this year – the very last Thursday of November, which seemed to shorten the time for preparations, though in Ina’s case, it didn’t really matter.

At 63, Ina was still strong and vigorous, but her appearance brought to mind bygone days. Her long hair was twisted into a bun on top of her head, just as she had worn it since she was first married, though now it was thin and gray. Her house dress was faded but serviceable, and she wore an old wool sweater to protect against the evening draft. By her appearance she was just an ordinary, old-fashioned farm wife, but nothing was further from the truth. You see, Ina and her sister Bertha, who lived just over the hill to the east, had been known to work a little magic from time to time, especially at Christmas.

Now that we could speak of Thanksgiving in the past tense, it was indeed time to think about Christmas, but Ina wasn’t finding her usual enthusiasm for it, especially when she reflected on the memories of last Christmas when she had been filled with anticipation as she gathered her family around her, especially her little granddaughter Sadie. She had enjoyed making a rag doll for Sadie, primitive though it was.

Yes, Ina knew that the magic of Christmas was in making a happy time for others, especially a child, but it wouldn’t happen this year. In fact, to make it even more difficult, this would be the first Christmas that none of her children would be at home. And, Ina worried a bit that in her present state of mind the magic muse would not appear to give Christmas that special glow.

Suddenly Ina felt a firm hand on her shoulder. “Wha-? What is it?” she stammered, and looking up from her reverie, she saw him standing beside her – Santa, the jolly old gent himself.

“Why, Santa! What are you doing here?” she asked.

“Ina, I need your help this year – Bertha’s, too.”

“But what can we do in this little old place so far away from everything,” blustered Ina.

“Happens you can do a lot,” Santa replied. “A little girl here is poor and sad. You’ll learn of the opportunity to make a difference soon. Please say yes. Mind now – don’t forget.”

“All right, Santa,” Ina replied drowsily. And as suddenly as he had come, Santa was gone.

“Ina? Ina!” husband Jack called from the rocking chair before the fireplace, “wake up. You’ve been talking to Santy Clause in your sleep again,” he chuckled. KW

COUNTDOWN TO CHRISTMAS -- PRELIMINARY POST

In my childhood (the ‘50s), a syndicated serialized story about Santa Claus appeared weekdays in our newspaper during the month of December, from the first until just before Christmas. Mother and I would read that day’s installment before I went to school.

According to online research, these advent serials were written by journalist Lucrece Beale. The story presented a problem that Santa had to solve in order to meet the Christmas deadline. You can read the history of these delightful serials here – and even some of the stories.

I’m celebrating December with a “serialized” story of my own, featuring my Grandmother Ina Dobson and her sister, Bertha, who lived on adjacent homesteads located in the now-defunct agricultural community of Gilbert on the breaks of the Clearwater River south of Orofino, Idaho. I posted an advent serial in 2015 and meant to do so in 2016, but when my sister Harriet suddenly left us on Halloween, I knew I couldn’t go through with it. Harriet, a journalist, had encouraged my writing efforts. “I can hardly wait to find out what happens next,” she would say. And some days I would respond, “Me, too.” Anyway, I had to give my writing muse a little recovery time, and I think she’s ready to go forward.

This year’s story starts on November 30, 1933. (The 1933 calendar corresponds with 2017, so 1933 it is.) In those days, Thanksgiving was celebrated on the last Thursday of the month. As the story opens, Ina is reflecting on her blessings as well as feeling a little sorry for herself. Not one of her six children will be home for Christmas, and the pending holidays loom without purpose. The story is more fiction than fact, but I try to capture something of an old-fashioned cozy Christmas in a time and place where life was simpler but not without problems.

See you tomorrow for the start of this venture. KW

[The pictures are advent calendars from my collection. We bought a new one each year, but Mother saved them.] 

MAIL ORDER -- THEN AND NOW

The Farm, c. 1950

My Grandparents Dobson, living on the farm in the first half of the 20^th century, used the Sears Roebuck catalog to order items they needed. I don’t know if they had the Montgomery Ward catalog, but my mother said she shopped from both Sears and Wards in the ‘30s and ‘40s. Once she placed her Ward’s order in the Sears’ envelope and vice versa. The two companies notified her that they had made the necessary exchange. She was embarrassed for what she saw as a careless error, but she was grateful for their efficiency. Truth be told, it probably happened frequently.

C. O. Portfors, c. 1954

My Grandfather Portfors, a businessman, preferred the John Plain catalog. John Plain was a wholesaler, and the deal was that you had to order through a business. Since my grandfather owned the Ford Garage, the family could order anything from the John Plain catalog, even if it had nothing to do with the automotive world. A number of my dolls came from John Plain, and more often than not, something was wrong with them. Mother believed that John Plain sold “seconds,” and that might have been true, but we put up with it.

Grandma Nina Portfors, c. 1954

Grandpa Portfors always said that Grandma could have anything she wanted as long as it came from the John Plain catalog, and yes, Grandma did feel restricted. She frequently had to compromise her heart’s desire, which, I might add, was needless. But these are the attitudes with which we were raised, and they influence us to this day.

My mother also shopped other catalogs. I remember that the Miles Kimball catalog had a cute little story every other page, and she would read those to me until I could read them for myself. Then there was Lee Ward’s, not to be confused with Montgomery Ward. Lee Ward sold crafting supplies, and wonderful things came from there, including Mother’s boutique ornament kits, string lights for the tree, etc. Eventually the business was sold to Michael’s and closed.

The view on a recent walk

When I had a family of my own, I shopped catalogs very little. By that time, I could find what I needed / wanted in the marts, and I didn’t feel I could afford to be frivolous. It wasn’t until online shopping came into being and I was retired that I began to make orders.

Nell & Bess -- Oh the wonderful smells!

I really enjoyed the “Black Friday to Cyber Monday” weekend, and I placed a number of online orders. A few things will come in boxes. As a matter of fact, UPS just delivered one of them, but most of it was downloads. And just like my mother, I did something silly. I forgot to use the code that would allow me a bonus pattern bundle, so I pressed the seller’s contact button to state my plight and my apologies. A very nice customer service rep replied that she was there to help me with anything I needed, and she provided the links. KW

BLACK FRIDAY

I hope you had a wonderful Thanksgiving and are now comfortably enjoying whatever makes you happiest this weekend. We enjoyed a sunny and unseasonably warm day.

Ginger Cookies

Tuesday evening an email message came in from daughter Hallie. Paraphrased, it read: “Hello Parents, Here’s my Amazon Christmas wishlist. Do you have a wishlist?”

I replied that she was confused – it’s Thanksgiving, not Christmas – and she countered that Black Friday deals were her motivation.

“Are you going out on ‘Black Friday?’” Mike asked me.

I never do, and I saw no reason to start now. Black Friday caught me sleeping in while visions of online deals at my favorite vendors danced in my head. I arose to find a record 52 email messages (including Black Friday offers) in my inbox – and yes, it was empty when I went to bed. I made my hot chocolate and eagerly set to work to take care of each message, one way or another.

3:30 p.m.

I try not to worry too much about sales. You know, there’s always another sale. Some years ago, a friend lamented that she had missed the annual baking staples sale at Rosauer’s (a local grocery store), and I pointed out to her that while that particular sale is a fun event, many more sales of such items would take place prior to Christmas. I don’t think she believed me, but I know it’s true.

4:30 p.m.

It IS fun to participate, though, especially when some vendor websites take on the feeling of community. I have my favorites. A non-profit catalog opt-out organization wrote to encourage me not to buy anything on Black Friday. Yeah – that didn’t happen, and I took care of that message a little faster than the others. (You can overdo the “waste not” philosophy.)

Mike with leaf blower

Back in the day of my childhood, my parents often shopped on the day after Thanksgiving. We would drive to Lewiston – or even Spokane. For sure, we made it to Spokane at least once during the season so that we could take in the holiday sights. It was important to see the window at The Crescent (and to a lesser extent The Bon Marche) – always decorated with an animated display. We visited toy departments and bought decorations, and the main floor was always a treat to see. I miss that. Nothing compares today – at least not in my world. KW

[The pictures don't have much, if anything, to do with the post. Some days are like that.]