Saturday, December 11, 2010
For the second year in a row, Mike and I went shopping till we were in danger of dropping at the Soldiers Home Christmas Bazaar. We had planned to meet at 10, but I got there a little early and saw Gary reading the newspaper in Activities, so first I gave him a special morning paper-flick. As expected, he was thrilled.
He told me he’d be at the bazaar soon, because he was selling homemade planters, complete with plants. I had no idea Gary was a crafty fellow, but he is man of many talents. I told him I wanted one, and suddenly my phone buzzed in my purse.
I picked it up, turned around—and there was Mike, calling me to see where we were meeting. “How about right here?” I said.
On our way over to Chilson Hall, I detoured again and again, trying to take photos of all the Home’s Christmas decorations, but I’m sure I missed some. Individually they’re sweet enough, but together it’s an extraordinary—and extraordinarily spirited—effort.
The tiny amateur “movie” I’ve posted here captures the images, but not the spirit. It was breathtaking walking into the bazaar, with the gorgeous giant Christmas tree; tables and tables of vendors and crafts; giggly groups of Scouts coming and going; and a couple of my friends selling homemade goodies (that’s Jim at the table of embroidered placemats, and Ann Lawson with her ceramic creations).
I did end up buying one of Gary’s beautiful planters—a delicate Purple Heart (the wood, not the medal) box holding a perfectly shaped cactus—and Mike tried to buy me the stunning wreath in the bottom-right corner of the four-wreath photo, but I snuck him some cash so he wouldn’t end up spending more than $5 on it.
Still, though, he left with a mysterious big shopping bag loaded with smaller gift bags, and when I told him he was done with gifts for me, and my family (we will treasure that wreath for years), he got a sheepish, sneakish look and said yes, yes, of course he was.
Far be it for me to throw a Grinch in the works.
I ended up with an adorable potholder, a “surprise” for my mom to give me, Gary’s planter (which my son snatched at first glance) and the sparkly handcrafted wreath (which I put on our door immediately). I tried and tried to buy Mike something, but the only thing I could talk him into was a vanilla shake. (The final photo is the holiday tip jar at the Snack Bar.)
So, grand bazaar total: food, folks, fun and festivity plus shopping. Now there’s a tradition worth keeping.
For the second year in a row, Mike and I went shopping till we were in danger of dropping at the Soldiers Home Christmas Bazaar. We had planned to meet at 10, but I got there a little early and saw Gary reading the newspaper in Activities, so first I gave him a special morning paper-flick. As expected, he was thrilled.
He told me he’d be at the bazaar soon, because he was selling homemade planters, complete with plants. I had no idea Gary was a crafty fellow, but he is man of many talents. I told him I wanted one, and suddenly my phone buzzed in my purse.
I picked it up, turned around—and there was Mike, calling me to see where we were meeting. “How about right here?” I said.
On our way over to Chilson Hall, I detoured again and again, trying to take photos of all the Home’s Christmas decorations, but I’m sure I missed some. Individually they’re sweet enough, but together it’s an extraordinary—and extraordinarily spirited—effort.
The tiny amateur “movie” I’ve posted here captures the images, but not the spirit. It was breathtaking walking into the bazaar, with the gorgeous giant Christmas tree; tables and tables of vendors and crafts; giggly groups of Scouts coming and going; and a couple of my friends selling homemade goodies (that’s Jim at the table of embroidered placemats, and Ann Lawson with her ceramic creations).
I did end up buying one of Gary’s beautiful planters—a delicate Purple Heart (the wood, not the medal) box holding a perfectly shaped cactus—and Mike tried to buy me the stunning wreath in the bottom-right corner of the four-wreath photo, but I snuck him some cash so he wouldn’t end up spending more than $5 on it.
Still, though, he left with a mysterious big shopping bag loaded with smaller gift bags, and when I told him he was done with gifts for me, and my family (we will treasure that wreath for years), he got a sheepish, sneakish look and said yes, yes, of course he was.
Far be it for me to throw a Grinch in the works.
I ended up with an adorable potholder, a “surprise” for my mom to give me, Gary’s planter (which my son snatched at first glance) and the sparkly handcrafted wreath (which I put on our door immediately). I tried and tried to buy Mike something, but the only thing I could talk him into was a vanilla shake. (The final photo is the holiday tip jar at the Snack Bar.)
So, grand bazaar total: food, folks, fun and festivity plus shopping. Now there’s a tradition worth keeping.
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