CHRISTMAS ON A SHOESTRING.

 

Steve and Alex with one of the Yorkies at our Stewart Ave. house

Here it is, that Jolly Old Season again and true to tradition my bank account is running on empty and I haven’t even started shopping yet. It’s just a fact of life that happens when one lives on an extremely low-income budget. Somehow, things always work out alright though. I’ve had lots of experience organizing gala Christmas celebrations on a shoestring.

I recall those “hard times” back in the ’70’s when I was a divorced single mom struggling to support two kids on a miniscule salary as a daycare teacher. My boyfriend and I decided to cut the costs by moving into a big house which we shared with a variety of other equally poor lodgers and assorted dogs and cats.

My boyfriend was on the lam from the American army as this was during the Viet Nam war so any work he had was under-the-table at a car wash. The other lodgers were young college students, and an occasional deserter or wayward hippie that took shelter with us. We never turned anyone away and each guest or tenant, no matter how impoverished, would participate by helping with cooking, sharing expenses and whatever. We all learned how to make do with very little and we were a happy, carefree gang.

The first year we moved in, with our very sparse budget, we were still determined to make the best of it for the Christmas season. After all, it isn’t Christmas without parties, decorations and presents. So all of us got together and cut out coloured tissue paper snowflakes to decorate the windows. We hung lights and somehow managed to get a Christmas tree which we decorated with traditional balls and tinsel as well as strings of popcorn. But what to do for presents?

It happened that I had a lot of material goods brought from my past life, so I sorted through the china tea-cups, jewelery and other items that I had stored away, carefully picking just the right gift for each of my friends. The girls in the house baked Christmas goodies and the old house was full of the delicious, familiar smells of the holidays. The whole motley crew enjoyed a turkey dinner with all the trimmings. It was a special Christmas because it wasn’t in the least bit ‘commercial’. Everything we had made or chosen from our own belongings to give away. It gave Christmas a new, special meaning.

There were a few other Christmases on a shoestring too, during those years. Once I remember us having a box of odds and ends: ribbons, tinsel, shiny paper, glue, sparkles and various artsy craftsy thing and each guest who came visiting had to make a decoration for the Christmas tree. One year my daughter and I made gingerbread houses for all our friends. Another time we had a Christmas cookie contest and decorated sugar cookies cut in various festive shapes which we hung on the Christmas tree. The ornamental cookies were so pretty we decided to keep them for the next year. But alas! The following Christmas when I opened the box up, the mice had eaten all the cookie ornaments!

I recall as a kid, my Mom used to make whole wardrobes for our Christmas dolls, and sew all our holiday clothes too. My parents didn’t have a lot of money but there were always plenty of gifts under the tree, and lots of goodies to eat. Christmas was a jolly time spent with family and friends. I guess those early days taught me how to have Christmas on a shoestring and in a way, those Christmases are the most memorable

 

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ODE TO CHRISTMAS TREES

One of the beautiful parts of Christmas are the traditional Christmas trees.  I still prefer the real kind and usually try to have one in my apartment.  But this year, because I'm going to be away, I am only having my small gold decorative tree.  When I put it up, with special small decoration and a string of lights, it looks very pretty and is just as satisfactory as a real tree.  These days many people prefer the imitation trees (much less trouble) but there is something about the scent of pine and cedar in the air that is missing when you use an artificial tree.  (So yesterday I bought pine-scented candles to make up for it!).

This is a story I wrote a few years ago about Christmas trees.  There are so many memories attached to Christmas trees.  I love seeing them, and my own tree always has decorations collected over the years, each with a special meaning.  (I buy a new decoration each year so I have something special to remind myself of that particular Christmas.  This year, as I'm using the small ornamental tree, I bought a tiny carousel when I visited the Burnaby Heritage Museum and it is hanging on the golden boughs along with my other Christmas treasures.)

"OH, CHRISTMAS TREE!"

Two weeks before Christmas. The tree lots are full of fresh-cut firs and pines. Families make special outings to pick this year's tree. Around the city, coloured lights shine heralding the Yuletide.

In the line-up at the Supermarket, I browse through the display of magazines, their covers advertising the
Christmas season, displaying showcase homes with plump trees bedizened with extravagant decorations. Some trees are sprayed gold or silver. And under the dazzling branches are heaps of designer-decorated packages.

I am reminded of other Christmas trees. MY Christmas trees. Although perhaps not so grandly decorated, they are distinctly memorable and remarkably special.

At home I open a box of photo albums and take a nostalgic trip to Christmases past. in a black-and-white photograph, hand tinted by my mother, is Tree Number One. My first Christmas tree: a spindly fir garlanded and hung with lots of tinsel and ornaments. Under its thin branches are the toys Santa has left. In front of the tree, on a little rocking chair sits a large doll with a frilly bonnet and pink dress. Next to it is a doll crib filled with stuffed toys and more dolls. Two stockings hang on the red-brick fireplace behind it, one lumpy with fruit and candy, the other a store-bought stocking full of surprises.

In another photo, taken several years later, the tree has ivory-soap 'snow' on the branches and garlands of popcorn and cranberries. My Mom enjoyed creating special effects for our Christmas tree. Under it are two dolls in highchairs, the boy dolls our mother lovingly sewed wardrobes for. Mine was named Tommy.

Every Christmas was magic when I was a child, a splendid family affair with a house full of visiting relatives and good cheer. Even when we grew older, each year at tree decorating time, it was a special family get-together with mom's delicious Christmas cookies, ginger ale and popcorn for treats as we dipped into the box of decorations and drew out a bauble for the tree. It was a time of nostalgia too, because each ornament had its own little memory attached.

When I grew up and had children of my own, their tree always had some of the decorations they had made: toilet-roll angels with cotton-batting hair and gold wings; egg-carton bells painted red and green and glued with sparkles; cut-out trees with sticker decorations.

One year we had a cookie-decorating contest. We baked sugar cookies, decorated them, and hung them on the tree. The most elaborately decorated cookie won. We saved the best one. They lasted a year or two until some mice discovered them.

Another year we set out a box of ribbons, glue, paper and sparkles and invited each guest that entered our house to make a special decoration for our tree.

Sometimes, other things had to make do for Christmas trees. The year I was going away to California to attend my daughter's wedding, my avocado plant served as a tree, hung with tinsel and silver balls. Another time, when I was living in a cramped bachelor suite, I decorated my ficus plant with lights and tinsel. The year I went to live in Greece, I bought a small laurel plant and decorated it with tiny lights and baubles.

I still have a few of the old treasured ornaments, and every Christmas as I unpack the decoration box to trim my Christmas tree, I am filled with nostalgia, remembering Christmases past: the chenille wreaths from my childhood trees, the expensive silver and gold globes bought to decorate the first tree shared by my husband and I; our children's special ornaments -- little ceramic bells collected on my children's visits to Santa Claus; special little gift ornaments made by friends; starched snow-flakes crocheted by my daughter; ethnic decorations from Mexico and China given to me by newcomers at the daycares where I have worked.

I always look forward to Christmas, especially to the tree decorating time. Some of those old ornaments are getting tattered and tarnished. Each year I have to part with a few, but each year I buy one new ornament to replace the old.


"Oh Christmas Tree, Oh Christmas Tree, how lovely are your branches!"

CHRISTMAS ON A SHOE STRING

Christmas 1972
Kids and Yorkie

For some reason this Christmas (so far) I don't seem to be as short of cash as usual. Perhaps it's because I've learned to cut back and eliminate unnecessary expenses. I also try to plan ahead for the gift-buying and by doing so aren't so inclined to purchase things without careful thought to expense, necessity and appropriateness. For my Christmas eve dinner, I decided on just a small family event with invitations to friends to drop in later for appetizers and punch.

I guess everyone is tightening the purse-strings this year what with the economic crisis looming. I've already been told my monthly pay is being cut back on the web site I write for (Planet Eye) but at the same time I was offered two new classes by the school board teaching kids writing. So that was an unexpected bonus and a good start for the New Year too.

I remember lots of years when things were tight and tough -- much tighter than now. And yet we always had a very nice Christmas with gifts, turkey dinner and lots of good cheer.
Here's one of the stories about those times, when the best way we had of surviving was to live in a communal setting and share expenses. (This story was written in the mid '90's.)

CHRISTMAS ON A SHOESTRING

Here it is, that Jolly Old Season again and true to tradition my bank account is running on empty. No, not because I squandered every cent on presents. Fact is, I haven’t even started shopping yet. It’s just a fact of life that happens when one lives on an extremely low-income budget. Am I worried? Not really. Somehow, things always work out alright. Besides, I had lots of experience in my past at organizing gala Christmas celebrations on a shoestring.

I recall those “hard times” back in the ’70’s when I was a divorced single mom struggling to support two kids on a miniscule salary and at times an even more miniscule donation from the dole. My boyfriend and I decided to cut the costs by moving into a big house which we shared with a variety of other equally poor lodgers and friends and assorted dogs and cats.

As my boyfriend was on the lam from the American army (this was during Viet Nam) any work he had was under-the-table at a car wash. The other lodgers were young college students, and an occasional deserter or wayward hippie that took shelter with us.
We never turned anyone away and each guest or tenant, no matter how impoverished, would participate by helping with cooking, sharing expenses and whatever. We all learned how to make do with very little and we were a happy, carefree gang.

The house had been occupied by bikers before we moved in and was known as “The Opium Palace”. We’d hung an American flag upside down in the window as our form of ‘protest’ against the war and there was a big mirror ball hanging in the middle of the front room ceiling.

The first year we moved in, with our very sparse budget, we were still determined to make the best of it for the Christmas season. After all, it isn’t Christmas without parties, decorations and presents. So all of us got together and cut out coloured tissue paper snowflakes to decorate the windows. We hung lights and somehow managed to get a Christmas tree which we decorated with traditional balls and tinsel as well as strings of popcorn. But what to do for presents? It happened that I had a lot of material goods brought from my past life as a plant-manager’s wife.

So, I sorted through the china tea-cups, jewellery and other items that I had stored away, carefully picking just the right gift for each of my friends. The girls in the house baked Christmas goodies and the old house was full of the delicious, familiar smells of the holidays. The whole motley crew enjoyed a turkey dinner with all the trimmings. It was a special Christmas because it wasn’t in the least bit ‘commercial’. Everything we had made or chosen from our own belongings to give away. It gave Christmas a new, special meaning.

There were a few other Christmases on a shoestring too, during those years. Once I remember us having a box of odds and ends: ribbons, tinsel, shiny paper, glue, sparkles and various artsy craftsy thing and each guest who came visiting had to make a decoration for the Christmas tree. One year my daughter and I made gingerbread houses for all our friends. Another time we had a Christmas cookie contest and decorated sugar cookies cut in various festive shapes which we hung on the Christmas tree. The ornamental cookies were so pretty we decided to keep them for the next year. But alas! The following Christmas when I opened the box up, the mice had eaten all the cookie ornaments!

I recall as a kid, my Mom used to make whole wardrobes for our Christmas dolls, and sew all our holiday clothes too. My parents didn’t have a lot of money and in those days there were no credit cards but there were always plenty of gifts under the tree, and lots of goodies to eat. Christmas was a jolly time spent with family and friends. I guess those early days taught me how to have Christmas on a shoestring and in a way, those Christmases are the most memorable.

OH, CHRISTMAS TREE

My little ornamental tree

OH, CHRISTMAS TREE

It’s beginning to look a lot like Christmas around town. The tree lots are full of fresh-cut firs and pines. The malls are full of shoppers and families make special outings to pick this year’s tree. Around the city coloured lights shine heralding the Yuletide. In the line-up at the Supermarket, I browse through the display of magazines, their covers advertising the Christmas season. Family Circle, Better Homes showcase homes with ornate trees bedizened with extravagant decorations. Under dazzling branches are heaps of designer-decorated packages. I think of Christmas trees past. My Christmas trees. Although perhaps not so ornately decorated, they are distinctly memorable.

At home I open a box of photo albums and take a nostalgic trip to Christmases past. In a black-and-white photograph hand tinted by my mother is Tree Number One. My very first Christmas tree: spindly fir garlanded and hung with lots of tinsel and ornaments. Under its thin branches are the toys Santa has left. In front of the tree, on a little rocking chair, sits a large doll with a frilly bonnet and pink dress. Next to it is a doll crib filled with stuffed toys and more dolls. Two stockings hand on the red-brick fireplace behind it, one lumpy with fruit and candy, the other a store-bought stocking full of surprises. There are Christmas cards on the mantle.

In another photograph, taken several years later, there are two dolls in high chairs under the tree. Those must have been the dolls for my little sister and me that our mother lovingly sewed entire wardrobes for. Mine was a boy doll named Tommy. That year we also got a new sled with bright red runners.

Christmas display at Van Dusen Gardens

Every Christmas was magic when I was a child, a splendid family affair with a house full of visiting relatives and good cheer. Even when we grew older, each year at tree decorating time, it was s family get-together with Mom’s delicious Christmas cookies, ginger ale and popcorn which sometimes we stung for the tree. We dipped into the boxes of decorations and drew out the baubles. It was a time of nostalgia, because each ornament had its own little memory attached.

When I had children of my own the tree always had some of the decorations they had made: toilet-roll angels with cotton-batting hair and gold wings; egg-carton bells painted red and green, glued with sparkles; cut0out trees with sticker decorations. One year, when we lived in a house full of friends, we had a cookie-decorating contest. We baked sugar cookies, decorated them and hung them on the tree. The most elaborately decorated cookie won a prize. We saved the best ones. They lasted a year or two until the mice discovered them. Another year we set out a box of ribbons, glue, paper and sparkles and invited each guest to make a special decoration for our tree.

I still have a few of the old treasured ornaments, so every Christmas as I unpack the decoration box to trim my own tree I am filled with nostalgia, remembering Christmases past; the chenille wreaths from my childhood Christmas trees, the expensive silver and gold globes bought to decorate the first tree shared by my husband and I; our children’s special ornaments -- the little ceramic bells stamped “Woodwards” collected on their visits to Santa Claus; special little gift ornaments made by friends; little starched snow-flakes crocheted by my daughter; ethnic decorations from Mexico and China given to me by newcomers to this country.

Tree in the Art Gallery plaza, Vancouver

I always look forward to Christmas, especially to the tree decorating time, because of these special memories. Some of the old ornaments are getting tattered and tarnished. I usually have to part with a few. but each year I buy one new decoration so that when I trim the tree the following year there will be a new memory to add to the box of Christmas treasures. And while I’m trimming the tree I’ll be singing the old familiar song:
“Oh, Christmas Tree, Oh, Christmas Tree, how lovely are your branches...”

Tree in Santiago Chile