(My new-to-me “vintage” watch.)
I’ve always liked watches. They aren’t just a fashion statement to me. I think there’s something so amazing about the tiny pieces and mechanisms working continuously to keep time in a small device you wear on your wrist. Secretly, I wish I knew how to repair them, because I think it would be a fun hobby.
I started wearing a watch in middle school, I think, and I’ve worn one ever since. In high school and college, I wore Timex pieces, since they were reliable and I could afford them. After my first year of teaching, I treated myself to a Citizen watch and wore it for the next ten years, until James was born and I began my new job as a mom. That watch stopped working last year, and I’ve been trying to charge it, but I think it might need some professional help at this point.
My current favorite is by Tokyo Bay, and I switch out the band, depending on my mood and the seasons. And recently, I purchased a “vintage” 1990s Fossil watch from a very sweet seller in England, and we had a lovely conversation via Etsy about watches in general. My watch arrived this week, an early Christmas present to myself, and I am daydreaming about its previous owner (who is not the seller) and who she might have been. I’m thinking she lived in London and worked in an office, or maybe she was a teacher like me. Her wrist was the same size as mine, because the hole I selected on the band is well-worn. You can tell the watch was worn a lot, but also loved and cared for. Maybe the previous owner loved watches as much as me, too. And the dual dials are so pretty and romantic.
I like the idea of vintage watches because, a watch, if loved and cared for, can last for years and years. And the idea of sharing a literal piece of time with someone from another era or decade is fascinating, too.
There aren’t many American-made watches these days, and it seems to be a dying art, in some ways. Most people rely on their phones to keep time, and watch parts usually come from Switzerland and are expensive, or from China, which brings up the issue of ethical treatment in factories there.
I did a bit of research on watches and discovered that, for a watch to be considered “Swiss-made,” it only has to contain 50% Swiss-made parts. At the same time, the Swatch brand holds a monopoly on Swiss-made parts and is, in many ways, forcing other Swiss watch companies to look elsewhere for basic pieces of watch mechanisms. It’s a very strange situation.
There’s a great new watch company in Detroit, called Shinola, that is training its workers in the art of watchmaking and hoping to revitalize the now bankrupt city. Their watches are beautiful and very expensive (the Gomelsky Collection is so elegant), but some of Shinola’s mechanical parts come from Switzerland and China, because they have to. Nobody else is making them. This also holds true for the sustainable wood and eco-friendly watch companies that are springing up these days.
I find this very interesting and a little sad, too. Hopefully, watchmaking won’t become a completely lost art as long as people continue to care for their watches.
Last year, I showed you our hand-me-down Christmas tree that has been in Ryan’s family for over twenty years. Every year, Ryan brings it down from the attic, and we set about putting it together by color-coded sections: fluffing each branch lovingly into place, stretching the lights across the living room floor to test them, wrapping them around and around and around and around, arranging and rearranging, then vacuuming up all of the dropped needles that fall as we work, before collapsing into heaving, sweaty messes on the couch. And that’s before we even hang a single ornament. Usually, I do that with the boys “helping” the second night, and it takes hundreds of ornaments to fill the tree. It’s an ordeal, to say the least, but one I used to enjoy.
Before I had children.
And it’s not their fault, and I love my boys to pieces, but Christmas is a lot more work (a whole lot more!) once you have children. Because, Yes, Virginia, there is a Santa Claus, but her name is Catherine and she’s armed with a credit card and an Amazon Prime membership, and she drives to school and back, and gymnastics and back, and packs lunches, and buys teacher gifts and wraps them, and buys birthday and Christmas presents and wraps them, and plans parties and family get-togethers, and does laundry and irons shirts for the school program, and well, there aren’t any elves around to help her.
It’s my job, and I gladly signed up for it, but yeah, that tree is killing me slowly every year.
This year, I just couldn’t face it, and I strongly considered stringing some lights on my big indoor plant. I bounced this idea off Ryan and a few other people, and just got stares of disbelief in return. Ryan said it didn’t sound like me, and he asked what I dreaded about putting up the tree. We decided together that I dreaded the time it took, the stress and hassle and amount of work, plus the fact that I’m the one who takes it all down in January when the boys go back to school.
Christmas is supposed to be a time of giving, of reflection, of sharing joy with friends and family, and I just don’t want to spend all of my time decorating a big, fat tree. And, when the boys go to bed at night, I really like to blog.
So we ventured out Friday morning in search of a MUCH smaller tree, and we found one! Best of all, it’s pre-lit and I can put it together all by myself. I did that Saturday night, while Ryan, for the very first time ever, hung lights on the outside of our house, while the boys “helped.”
Our tree is tiny, at less than five feet, and crooked, and scraggly, and absolutely perfect.
(Our little tree. “I laughed when I saw it, in spite of myself.”)
And then, after dinner, I spread out a few ornaments, none of our most valuable or sentimental, and the boys proudly decorated our little tree, all by themselves. It took about thirty minutes, and it looks beautiful. And we can cross that off our list, and move on to the two weeks of school before the parties begin, before James turns five, before Ryan has his birthday, before Christmas arrives. I can take a deep breath because our house is decorated, and I’ve still got a little time to myself in the evenings.
(Ornaments ready for the boys to hang.)
(James decorating his tree.)
(Rhys considering proper ornament placement.)
(The lovely, final product.)
Best of all, when the presents are opened, played with, and the boys have returned to school, it will take me less than an hour to put it away until next year. And maybe then we’ll bring out the big tree again. Or maybe not.
We hosted Thanksgiving at our house again this year, and it was a really nice and relaxing day. My parents helped us out tremendously by watching the boys at their house from Tuesday afternoon through Thursday morning, which meant that Ryan and I could prepare everything with undivided attention, and our little guys got to spend some quality time with their grandparents.
Just in case you aren’t sick of all the food yet, here are a few pictures from our holiday.
(Simple Thanksgiving table.)
I always serve buffet-style and our guests are scattered throughout the house, so I set a simple table in the dining room for anyone who wanted to sit there. I found these pretty placemats from West Elm and ordered enough for everyone to use. They’ll work great through the holidays, and best of all, they are washable.
(Thanksgiving side dishes.)
Ryan smoked a brisket and his mom brought some turkey breasts, so I fixed all the side dishes. I know it’s controversial, but I like to prepare most of my dishes the day before and reheat them Thanksgiving morning. This year, since I had more time and no little boys running through the kitchen, I was able to cook more on Thanksgiving morning, and everything turned out great.
(Jalapeño bullets!)
Ryan also made one of my favorite party foods, jalapeño bullets! They are definitely a labor of love, since every pepper must be cut, de-seeded, soaked in water to reduce the heat, stuffed with cream cheese, wrapped in bacon, and then grilled. But they are absolutely delicious and not really that hot to eat.
(We had four different pies!)
Ryan’s mom always bakes cherry, pecan, and pumpkin pies, and my sister made a delicious, gluten-free apple pie this year, too. I added some banana pudding to go with all the brisket, and we are still eating our way through the desserts.
It was such a relaxing weekend, and we also finished our Christmas decorating, too, which I’ll show you this week. The rush is on for our family, since the boys have two weeks of school left, their Christmas program and class parties, and James’ fifth birthday is right after that. December is our busiest time of year, and I’m trying to maintain some sense of calm this year.
How was your Thanksgiving?
