I’m taking it easy during these holiday weeks, and I hope you are able to do so as well. Whatever winter holiday you hold (Christmas, Hanukkah, Solstice, Yule, Kwanzaa, Festivus, or just Let’s Get Together), may it bring you joy, peace, and strength as we go into a new year and a new decade.
This post marks the last time I’ll be updating the blog here on WordWacker. It’s been a wonderful 5 1/2 years, but now it’s time to move things over to my own site: www.celiareaves.com. If you’ve been enjoying my content here, I hope to find you over there, but either way, thank you for visiting me over the years. My followers are awesome and I value each and every one of you. Blessings on you and yours, and peace out!
The Lens Artists this week ask us to share images of displays. The first fits with the season: it’s a small part of the collection of Christmas trees I set out on my mantle at this time every year. I love their bright colors and the huge variety of materials they are made of.
The second couldn’t be more different, except that it also contains many different colors. I wanted to get a 20-sided die to give to a gaming friend of mine as a thank-you for a small favor she did, and spent some time ogling the huge variety of polyhedral dice available at my local gaming store. Each little box contains seven different dice identified by the numbers of sides they have: four, six, eight, ten, and twenty. (There are two with ten sides, one marked 1-2-3-etc. and one 10-20-30-etc. You roll them both when you need a percentage.) All those who love tabletop role-playing games (Dungeons and Dragons and its many descendants) also love dice. Aren’t these lovely?
Posted in response to Lens-Artists #76: On Display, with thanks to Amy for posting this week’s challenge.
Remember that starting in a few weeks, I will be posting only on my official website: www.celiareaves.com. I hope to see you on my new site!
The Lens Artists photo challenge this week is about nostalgia. Since it’s the time of year when we’re decorating for Christmas, my thoughts went to one particular holiday tradition at my house: the little blue ornament.
This is the only ornament that survives from the first set my parents bought when they got married in the 1940s. It’s nothing special, just an unadorned blue sphere a couple of inches across, except of course that nostalgia makes it special to me. When I hang it on the tree, I have a warm, settled feeling of connection with my family’s history.
Posted in response to Lens-Artists #75: Nostalgic, with thanks to Tina for posting this week’s challenge.
Please note that all starting in a few weeks, my images will only be posted on my official website: www.celiareaves.com. If you want to see the pictures I post in the future, you’ll have to follow me there. I hope to see you on my new site!
We celebrate Christmas in our household, but whatever winter holiday you hold (Hanukkah, Solstice, Kwanzaa, New Years, Three Kings Day), I hope it brings peace, joy, and blessings overflowing to you and yours. Light will arise from the darkness. Always.
Ed is someone I know from church, who used to sing in the choir before his eyesight got so bad he couldn’t see the music. Back when he could see, he used to paint Christmas ornaments for everyone in the choir every year. We have a glass ornament with a frozen lake and pine trees, a wooden one with Santa, and so on. This one is our family’s favorite. My daughter calls it he Pissed-Off Cardinal, and searches eagerly for it every year as we decorate the tree. If you look closely, you can see where it says Ed just under the main branch. We all love the whimsical nature of this cheery, cranky image. Ed is still around, and we’d thank him every year for the beautiful gifts he’s given us, except that it makes him sad that he can’t do it any more. So I post this photo in honor of Ed, who painted it with love and signed his name with pride. Thank you, Ed.
Posted in response to the WordPress photo challenge: Names
Every year when we decorate the tree we keep an eye out for that one ornament. It’s as big around as a quarter and plain blue, the only one left from the first set of glass ornaments my parents bought when they got married in the 40s. I’m proud to be the one who inherited it when they were gone, and my daughter will inherit it after me, assuming it survives yet more years of Christmas duty.