Grace-filled Tuesdays (Book Club "Meeting" #4): Rings 'n Things

Well, it's Tuesday, so it's that time again: time for tome talk.  (Alliteration: always awesome, anytime.)

For those of you who haven't read Erin's Ring, I thought I'd entice you to think about reading this work of YA Catholic fiction by sharing links to a recent review by my writer/blogger friend, Patrice Fagnant-MacArthur--whom I've only met on-line, but with whom I've been corresponding for several years now.  Patrice posted her review on the book's Amazon page, and that's always so helpful; but she also posted it on her Spiritual Woman and Today's Catholic Homeschooling blogs.  I am especially thankful that she shared Erin's Ring with her homeschooling audience, under the headings of English, History, Social Studies, Reading, Grade 6, Grade 7, Grade 8, and High School.  My publisher, Cheryl Dickow at Bezalel Books, feels strongly that it would be a good addition to Catholic classrooms, and I am pleased that Patrice concurs. (Patrice was also very generous when I contacted her in 2013 with a review request for Finding Grace; if  you're up for it, you can read that review here.)  Hey, maybe clicking on links isn't really your thang.  If so, here you go--Patrice's review of Erin's Ring, copied and pasted just for you.  With artfully placed vine images before and after to separate it from the rest of the post.

Erin’s Ring

Written By: Patrice Fagnant-MacArthur - Feb• 22•15

Erin’s Ring
by Laura H. Pearl
Waterford, MI: Bezalel Books, 2014

Erin’s Ring by Laura H. Pearl is a delightful Catholic young adult novel. Molly McCormick is the new girl in Dover, New Hampshire. An 8th grader, she is the oldest of six children with one more on the way. Her father is a pilot based at Logan airport while her mother cares for their bustling brood. Theresa Grant’s parents are separated, torn apart after the death of their younger child. She lives a lonely pain-filled life. Yet, she and Molly soon become friends, bonding in a library one day.

Molly found an Claddagh ring in the dirt outside her parish Church and is eager to find out who it belonged to. She shares her quest with Theresa and with the help of a friendly librarian, begin delving into the Irish history of Dover.

Interwoven is the tale of Ann O’Brien who came to Dover from Ireland in 1827 to work at the Cocheco Mill.

This tale is great for middle-school or older girls. Even as an adult, I eagerly read it. Perfect for anyone who enjoys history and light romance. Teaches much about life in the mills for Irish immigrants and the struggle to have Catholic places of worship. A great treat!

Isn't that a kind and thoughtful review?  Now while I figure out how exactly I'm really supposed to be conducting this book club (do I assign a certain number of chapters of one of the books and then at the next meeting discuss a particular theme or plot twist?  Is that how it's done?  Or are you okay with the sort of haphazard way I've been running these meetings?), perhaps you could get yourself a copy of one or the other of my novels (or..both?  Why not!).  If you haven't read them yet, that is.

Anyway, I've decided that since I've introduced you to Patrice Fagnant-MacArthur, I'm going to take this opportunity to tell you about her debut novel, The Rose Ring--for which she used a pen name, Anne Faye.  Recently in the Catholic blogging world, there was a movement to "hashtag show us your list"--that is, to list Catholic-friendly novels that are decidedly NOT the least bit like 50 Shades of Grey--a movement which sprang to life right around the time that the movie adapted from the appalling bestselling trilogy of books came to a theater near you.  I hadn't read Faye's The Rose Ring when I made my list--but if I had, I would have added it.

If you're looking for a sweet and satisfying romance--between characters who are human and real and make mistakes, but are searching for truth and forgiveness and true love--then this book is for you.

I was sent a copy of The Rose Ring in exchange for an honest review, and when the package came in the mail I was so excited to open it and dive right into the book.  After all, the story revolves around a beautiful gold ring with a mysterious past, and a search for its original owner.  (Sound familiar?!)  And this book is part historical fiction: it goes back and forth in time--from the present day, when Julia Manning, a quiet book store employee, finds an old ring in a box that belonged to her grandmother; to the 1940's, when Elizabeth Phelps, now an elderly dementia patient, was given one just like it by a young man who left her to fight in WWII.  (I think Patrice Fagnant-MacArthur/Anne Faye and I are writing soul mates, I truly do!  And you'll have to read Erin's Ring to fully understand why I say that.)

The Rose Ring is a quick read, at 168 pages; however, don't let the length fool you.  There is so much packed into this novel: the heroism of ordinary human beings is on display, as well as the human propensity to sin that causes such agony and sadness in relationships--and these opposing sides of man's nature are handled with gentleness and dignity by the author.  But here's what you won't find in The Rose Ring: those inappropriate, overly descriptive scenes of physical intimacy that litter the pages of so many works of contemporary romantic fiction.

Faye's characters have made huge mistakes in their lives, and have lived to regret them deeply and painfully.  Both Julia and Elizabeth are tormented by their pasts and feel utterly betrayed by the men they loved and trusted. I won't tell you how Julia has been hurt, or what she ultimately chooses to do when the man who broke her heart suddenly comes back on the scene--because I don't want to spoil it for you, in case you decide to get your hands on a copy.  I won't tell you if Elizabeth's fiancé ever returned from the war, for the same reason.  But I will tell you that this wonderful novel poignantly and beautifully illustrates that no matter how unforgiveable our actions might seem, there is hope for forgiveness, redemption, and peace.  There is hope for true love--not the stuff of your typical secular romance novels, but the kind of sacrificial love that mirrors Christ's love for us. 

The Rose Ring is an inspirational romance novel--it's engaging, thought-provoking, and hope-filled.  As an added bonus, it's got that WWII-era historical fiction component that I can never resist.  And best of all, it's clean enough for your middle school-aged daughter.  In fact, the two of you could curl up on the couch and read it together.  Thumb's up on this one.

Prayers for Mimi

My mother ("Mimi" to her grandkids and great-grandkids) had an unfortunate accident last Wednesday.  She fell at home and broke her right hip.

It just so turns out that my husband and I were at home in NH (back from VA for a week-and-a half or so to take care of some important things), getting ready to pack the car for a drive north to Plattsburgh, NY, when we got the news.  My husband was planning to deal with plumbing issues at his family's home on the lake, the result of a furnace malfunction that led to burst pipes and caused flooding in the basement.  And while we were there, I was looking forward to visiting with my folks, maybe bringing them out some home-cooked meals...

Well, one of my younger sisters called Wednesday morning, and I immediately thought something was wrong.  It isn't like her to call on a weekday morning for no reason.  Everything was fine, she assured me.  She was just calling to apologize because she'd made Mom and Dad some potato and leek soup, and she'd only made enough for two, unaware that we were due to arrive that evening.  I assured her that we had been planning to get our own dinner and proceeded to get back to my packing.  Then less than a half-hour later, she called again.  "Wow, two calls in one day.  To what do I owe the pleasure?" I joked.  "Well..." she said.  "You were worried the first time, and it was nothing.  But now there IS an emergency."  She had just gotten a call from my dad, who had frantically called 9-1-1 and was waiting for the ambulance to arrive.

Long story short: my husband and I left earlier than we'd planned to and got there in time to visit with Mimi on Wednesday in the ER, and we saw her safely moved to a room upstairs.  While my husband dealt with the plumber on Thursday, I was able to be there at the hospital while she was in surgery and stayed for a few hours after she got out of recovery.  Then I was able to spend most of Friday and Saturday with her in her room, accompanied by one or the other of my two sisters (who shall heretofore be known as "Saint R" and "Saint B").

My mom has always been a whirlwind of energy--the "Energizer Bunny" was what we all called her.  She's feisty and has a great sense of humor.  Case in point: here she is in the ER the day of her injury, while waiting to be transferred upstairs--and just look at that smile!

It was somewhat terrifying to see this cute, indomitable 79-year-old utterly sapped of energy post-surgery, with barely enough juice to open her eyes or whisper a few words.  She couldn't feed herself, much less stand up and walk on her own.  We spoon-fed her, but she could eat no more than a few tiny bites at each meal.  She had so much trouble waking up from the anesthesia and pain narcotics that I had begun to wonder if she was going to be okay.  The doctor had warned us that it's a whole different ball game when a hip replacement is done after a traumatic break than when it's done electively, to relieve the pain of arthritis.  It was going to be slow-going, he said.  But still, it was scary...

My sister (Saint B) got Mom to wake up enough to finish a whole milkshake on Friday night.  That was huge (and proves my theory that ice cream has magical healing powers)!  And on Saturday, she began to turn a corner, spending more time sitting up in a chair than lying in bed.  When my husband and I were driving back to NH on Sunday, Saint B told me that Mimi was doing, in the words of the nurses, "so much better!"  She was sitting up, eating M & M's (yet another medicinal food item); and she'd walked a few steps--with help, of course.

Today, Mimi is scheduled to be transferred to a rehab center.  She's got a long road ahead of her before she can move back home, so please keep her in your prayers!  (My dad could use a few as well; it's going to be lonely for him while she's away.)

Now it's back to VA for Papa and me, where our little G-Man is waiting for us.  I feel kind of guilty that I'm not there for Mom, and dearly wish that I could be two places at once--in VA taking care of G-Man, and in NY helping to take care of Mimi.  I thank God every day that my sainted sisters both live close to our parents (Saint R lives literally around the corner from them).  When things like this happen, it only reminds me of how blessed our family really is.

The Best St. Patty's Day

Faith 'n begorrah, my husband and I had the best St. Patty's Day!

No, we didn't dress up like leprechauns and head down to the local Irish pub to drink Guinness.  It was a quieter sort of celebration.

It didn't start out all that great, truth be told.  In the morning, my main squeeze had a routine-when-you-get-to-be-our-age colonoscopy; and then just after I'd dropped him off back at home, a little lightheaded but none the worse for wear, I had to go to the dentist and have two porcelain crowns put on a pair of side-by-side lower molars.  You know, because the gigantic fillings that have been keeping them together since the 60's were starting to deteriorate and my teeth were developing cracks.  (#oldpeopleproblems)

But looking at the bright side (because there's always a bright side, dontcha know), we're lucky we have the means to take care of our aging bodies, and that at the end of the day, the two of us are pretty hale and hearty for a couple of fifty-somethings who are slouching toward the big six-oh.

Since my husband wasn't allowed to do even so much as a light work-out (doctor's orders!) and I had no plans to do so anyway, we spent the rest of the day being decadently lazy and just enjoying each other's company.  In the afternoon, I put our New England boiled dinner in the crock pot; and while it simmered away, we watched The Quiet Man--which I have to say just might be my all-time favorite movie.  It's extremely romantic, funny (and I mean laugh-out-loud funny), and utterly delightful.  And it makes me want to move to rural Ireland, buy a thatch-roofed cottage, get some sheep, and learn how to farm.  (I'm not kidding, either.)

Have you seen this John Ford classic?  If not, you've missed a real humdinger.

John Wayne plays Sean Thornton--a big, handsome ex-boxer and man of little words--and he's terrific in this movie.  And Maureen O'Hara is phenomenal.  After the movie ended, I turned to my husband and said, "I wish I was feisty, like Mary Kate Dannaher.  Should I be feistier?  Would I be more fun if I was feistier?"  (This is what I have been putting my poor husband through for almost thirty-five years of marriage.  The man is a saint.)

After the movie, we feasted on corned beef, cabbage, carrots, and potatoes, and we followed it up with this colorful cake.

Is this too green?  Is it too much?  Too Irish-y?

Maybe so.  But The Quiet Man is just the right amount of Irish, I'm here to tell ya.

John Wayne and Maureen O'Hara--Sean and Mary Kate--smolder together on the screen; and yet, nothing is said or done in this film that makes it inappropriate for even the youngest members of your family to view right along with you.  And for Catholics, it's a joy to watch a movie where priests and practicing members of the Faith are portrayed in a positive light, as normal, likeable, down-to-earth people.

Yes, we had a wonderful day.  How about you?  Did you stay in and celebrate quietly, like we did?  Or did you paint the town green?  Tell me how you celebrated the feast of Ireland's patron saint--I'd love to hear from you.

A Book Signing, A Book Review, and a Book Club--with Lots 'o Irish in 'Em!

Happy St. Patty's Day, everyone!

It's a book club day today--a "Grace-filled Tuesday," that is.  So as long as we're supposed to be talking about books here, what better day to tell you about the book signing I had this past weekend?

Here's what I wore for the event: a green sleeveless knit sheath dress that I picked up at the after-season Talbot's clearance sale (along with a red one and a purple one, because I have the kind of husband who says "Get one in every color" when he sees how much I like something); and a navy blue cardigan I stumbled upon in an Irish goods online catalog, embroidered already with a green and white Claddagh design--and as if that wasn't perfect enough, it was monogrammable (but I decided to skip my name or initials and have them embroider my book's title on there instead).

I meant to have my husband take lots of pictures at the book signing, especially when people stopped by to purchase a book and chat.  I thought it might be a good idea to use these pictures of satisfied customers holding their copies as promotional tools.  But it ended up being so busy after almost every one of the five Masses (the anticipated on Saturday, three morning Masses on Sunday, and then a Sunday evening Life Teen Mass), it was all we could do to keep up with making change and putting tick marks in my little notebook to keep track of the numbers. 

A person should have such problems, right?  (#feelingblessed)

Overall, we sold 59 copies of Erin's Ring, as well as 10 copies of Finding Grace.  I went into the weekend thinking if we sold a dozen books total, that would be pretty good--so I was not quite prepared for how well it went!  We were able to give a check for over $200 back to our parish (1/4 of the sales), and that felt really, really good.

I had lots of Irish stuff 'n things on my display table.  My publisher, Cheryl Dickow at Bezalel Books, said I should have fun with it.  (The Easter basket was actually her idea--thanks, Cheryl!)

There was an Irish cut-crystal vase (picked up by my husband way back in college, when he went to Ireland for a Notre Dame rugby team trip) with faux shamrocks in it, and even a pot o' gold--filled with coins that were also faux, of course.

For the first Mass on Saturday, we set up in the foyer near the front doors at St. Mary's (the church that plays such a prominent role in Erin's Ring).  My husband attended this Mass while I got things ready.

The foyer of St. Mary's.

After that Mass, we brought everything home, and then set it all up again in the church hall at St. Joseph's (the other church building used by Parish of the Assumption, which was formed by the merger of the three formerly independent Catholic parishes in Dover, NH) the following morning, for the 7:00 a.m. Mass.  I attended this Mass and my husband watched over the table for me until I could come out and join him.

The parish hall at St. Joseph's.

After the 7:00, we packed everything up and headed across town to St. Mary's, where the rest of the book signings were to take place after the 9:00, the 11:00, and the 5:00 p.m. Masses.  The church hall at St. Mary's was the best of all the locations used for this event: it is not only big, light and airy; it is also where the parish hosts its coffee-and-donuts gatherings after the 9:00 and 11:00 Masses, so lots of people come through there.  There was a great deal of interest and enthusiasm about both books from the folks at those Masses.  I wish I'd gotten some "action shots" there, but at least I got a picture with our pastor, Father Aggie.

The parish hall at St. Mary's.

We made one trip back to St. Mary's in the evening, and this time we had to set up in the foyer again because the parish hall was locked.  There were lots of young people at that Mass, and they snapped up quite a few books on their way out of the church.  I pray they will be inspired by them.

I am so incredibly fortunate that my first-ever Erin's Ring book signing was at our parish--and mostly at St. Mary's Church.  My sincerest thanks to Father Aggie and all of my kind and generous fellow parishioners at Parish of the Assumption for making this a successful event.  My cup overflows, it truly does.

Before I sign off, I thought I'd share a new review of Erin's Ring, by Catholic novelist/blogger Kari Burke.  If you haven't read it yet, maybe Kari's words will make you want to, and you can join us here on future Tuesdays when we discuss it!

Okay, I'm off now--to work on preparing my New England boiled dinner and green cake!  Because even though it's Lent, tonight--in honor of good St. Patrick--we feast! 

I'm Back--with News about a Book Signing!

I'm still here, readers.  I'm not sure if any of you are, though, since my output at the old bloggeroo has been fairly pitiful lately.

But I've been a tad busy, you see. And spending my days with my little buddy, G-Man, has reminded this former SAHM just how all-consuming the task of full-time baby care is.  It's the best job a Grammy could ever ask for, trust me; but at the end of the day I am so tired that I can't force myself to think about sitting down at my laptop and trying to come up with an interesting new post.  How you young mommy bloggers do it, I'll never know.  My hat is off to you, ladies!

I don't write much these says; but I do take lots of selfies (I like to call the photo series "Scenes from Grammy's Lap")--of G-Man sleeping peacefully...and me looking all scary and disheveled, with messy hair and no make-up, unshowered and wearing work-out clothes that are never used for working out anymore.

Yikes.  How about another, less scary pic of Grammy?  This one was taken on a day when Papa was splitting duties with me, so I was able to shower, brush my hair, and put on a little blusher.

I like this one a lot better--especially because I used magical Instagram color and lighting effects to enhance it (and there's more news: I've jumped on the Instagram bandwagon!).  But Papa did point out that because of the angle and that crease, G-Man's head looks too big for his neck here.  But it's not, I assure you.  That's just an optical illusion.
 
I've had so many wonderful things happen to me in the past few weeks.  I've been contacted by Ascension Press to see if I'd be willing to blog about a new DVD series they have out that helps to show young people the beauty of the Mass.  My answer was a resounding "YES!"--but I have yet to sit down and give that project the attention it deserves.  An old blogging friend of mine sent me some beautiful hand-made cord Rosaries for my family members, and I've been meaning to post some photos of those.  I was also contacted out of the blue by a thoughtful reader who saw an Irish Mother's Rosary in her online travels and thought I'd like it (it can be personalized with five names; how perfect for this mother of five sons!), and I wanted to share that story with you, as well as the address of the awesome website where an Irish mom can get one of those beautiful Rosaries.  I've got pictures of G-Man to share that are to die for, and also a sweet story about something one of my twin granddaughters said recently that completely melted her Grammy's heart.  (It's about a coat, and I'll be sure to tell you that story in an upcoming post.)  I missed the first anniversary of son #4 and his bride Braveheart almost a month ago, and on the same day, the second birthday of Little Gal--both big milestones I would normally have celebrated on this blog.  Mea culpa!  I certainly have a lot of great topics to blog about, when I get myself back in the groove.  The hubby and I are home in NH for almost two weeks, while G-Man is cared for by his other grandma, so I'm going to be doing a lot of catching up--both at the house and here at String of Pearls.  (Congratulate me: my Christmas decorations have finally been taken down and stored away in the attic.  With the exception of the tree...now there's another blog post topic for you!)

But the big news today is that I'm having my first book signing for Erin's Ring, after the anticipated Mass at St. Mary's Church (the church that is so prominently featured in the novel).  Our pastor put an announcement in last week's bulletin and this week's, too, so this thing is really happening!  I will be in the church hall after all four Masses tomorrow as well.  I'm a little nervous, because I've only had one book signing in my three years as a published author.  At the Catholic Writer's Guild conference in NJ in August of 2013, I had a table for one hour.  (During that time, I signed one whole copy of Finding Grace--but I think that still counts!)

I have been busy trying to come up with some table decorations that will be appealing to the eye.  Here's what I have so far:

Erin's Ring is a book that celebrates the Irish, and it's almost St. Patty's Day, so I thought it would be okay to include some shamrocks and a pot o' gold in my table decor.  Hope it's not too much.

I just remembered that one of my sons had an enormous Irish flag that used to hang on the wall in his dorm room...I've got to go down to the basement now and dig through some boxes to see if it's still there.

I'm hoping for the luck of the Irish this weekend.  Please keep me in your prayers, won't you?

WWRW: Novels about WWI and WWII

It's that time again--time for linking up over at Housewifespice to talk books.

I've gotten back to reading a lot more these days.  This is partly because I'm finished with my own writing project (Erin's Ring), which took up most of my time the second half of 2014.  And it's also because I'm not living at home in NH right now, but with my middle son's family in VA.  If you come here often, you know all about this--and about how Papa and Grammy have been playing nanny to their little grandson, G-Man, for the past couple of months, helping his mommy out until her job ends in May and she can become a SAHM.

Being away from my own house gives me a lot more free time, you see ("free" being a relative term here, when your days are devoted to the care and feeding of a five-month-old).  I mean, I can't putter about, spring clean, purge my attic of old clothing that should go to Goodwill, or even take down our Christmas tree and all of our Christmas decorations, etc. etc. etc., because I'm just not there to do it.  So in some ways, this winter-down-south is a bit of a vacation for me.  And when my grandson is napping peacefully in my lap (because no, I'm not going to put him in his cold, impersonal crib when I can have the joy of his sweet weight resting on me), I do have one free hand to hold a paperback book.  And I've become very adept at flipping the pages one-handed.

So, as I said, I've been reading a lot more these days.  In the past week or so, I've read two novels that I enjoyed very much (enough, in fact, to give them four- and five-star reviews on Goodreads).

The first is Once We Were Brothers, by Ronald H. Balson.  I was drawn to this book for two reasons: it was the author's debut work, and the story had an historical fiction component set in the Second World War.

This was such a terrific read!  I'm always drawn to WWII-era historical fiction, and this novel definitely didn't disappoint.   Although I've read lots of books (both fiction and non-fiction) that deal with the Holocaust and stories of its survivors, this take on that tragic subject matter was fresh and original, extremely moving, and exceedingly well-written.

This book goes back and forth, from 1940's Germany to present-day New York.  It is centered around two boys--one a Polish Jew and the other a German gentile, raised as brothers before Hitler invades Poland--who are divided by the war and go their separate ways, with devastating consequences.  When they meet more than half a century later, a lawsuit ensues, as one "brother" accuses the other of Nazi atrocities.

I couldn't put this book down and devoured it in two days.  I look forward to reading more by this talented author.

(Also, as a Catholic, I was deeply moved by Balson's depiction of a self-sacrificing Catholic priest and a group of brave Catholic nuns, who hid Jews and were instrumental in leading many to safety.  Although this is a work of fiction, I know that there were many such real individuals who secretly risked their own personal safety to save Jewish lives.) 

After I turned the last page of that book, I could hardly wait to start another.  But I didn't have a whole lot of time to search for a new title.  I ended up at Target rather than Barnes & Noble, and the pickins in the book and magazine section there were a tad on the slim side.  But I'd heard of Jo Jo Moyes, the author of The Girl You Left Behind; and judging by the synopsis on the book's back cover, I thought it might be something I would like.

And it was.

This bestselling novel is an endearing and well-written blend of historical and contemporary fiction (with some courtroom drama thrown in there).  Hmmm....that sounds very much like Once We Were Brothers, doesn't it?  It's a different war this time, but it deals with German occupation and wartime struggles and tragedies.  And it jumps back and forth in time...Yes, there are some definite similarities!  I guess I tend to be drawn to the same sorts of books, over and over.

Jo Jo Moyes's complex novel takes the reader on a journey back in time to a small, German-occupied French village during WWI, forward to modern-day, 21st-century London, and then back to France again.  The lives of present-day characters become interwoven with the lives of characters long-dead, in ways that surprise the reader.  The stories of both past and present have at their core compelling and poignant tales of deep love and unbearable loss--and the people involved are intricately linked by "The Girl You Left Behind," an obscure Impressionist painting of a beautiful, red-haired young woman with an inscrutable expression on her face.

My only real criticism is that I'd like to read a love story by a modern author where the players don't fall immediately into bed; I'm always hankering for a good old-fashioned version of boy-meets-girl, with "first comes love, then comes marriage," and so on--and that is definitely missing here.  But otherwise, I thoroughly enjoyed this book--a page-turner that gripped my imagination and kept me up way past my bedtime several nights in a row!  I was still thinking about it, long after the surprising and deeply satisfying conclusion.

Okay, that's it for me; now head over to Jessica's for more book suggestions.

An Oldie but a Goodie

No, sweet husband of mine, I'm not talking about you.  I would never call you "old"--because if I did, I would have to apply the same adjective to myself.  (Readers, the hubby and I are exactly the same age...or I should say basically the same age, because he IS a month and six days my senior...)

So we've established that this post isn't going to be a love letter to my best guy.

What it IS going to be is a love letter to family traditions, memories, and heirlooms--with a nod to that old New England adage that goes, "Use it up, wear it out, make it do, do without."  It's also going to illustrate how long I tend to hold onto things, particularly if they've played an important role in the life of my family.  And what piece of furniture could possibly play a bigger role in a family's daily routine than a kitchen table?  (Don't answer that; I was getting all rhetorical with you there.)

When my husband and I were two bright-eyed 25-year-olds with a new baby, we bought our first house (a sweet little three-bedroom ranch).  Shortly afterward, we purchased a round drop-leaf oak table at the unfinished furniture store and gave a it a golden finish.  Our family was small back in those days when we lived in that FL ranch  (and one boy--or sometimes two--was always using a high chair), so it was plenty big enough for us at the time.  It fit perfectly in our somewhat cramped breakfast nook area off the kitchen.

Here's a 1985 picture of my oldest son sitting at this table on his second birthday, joined by two of his older buddies (with his almost nine-month-old brother in the high chair in the foreground and another younger brother in utero in his mom), getting ready to blow out the candle on his Cookie Monster cake.

The chairs were a mish-mash of hand-me-downs from my in-laws and consignment shop finds, but I think I like the mismatched look better anyway.  (Eclectic, that's it--that's my style.)

We used this little round oak table until we outgrew it.  By the time we bought our "forever home" in NH, it was relegated to a side wall in the basement, with one leaf down--making room for a bigger kitchen table to handle our bigger family.  Then when our #2 son moved into an apartment about an hour away from us and began his first teaching job, we gave it to him and he put it to good use for a few years.  (Not eating dinner on it, mind you; it was more of a catch-all--but no matter.)  When our boy got married and moved down to VA last year, that table came back to its original owners, like a boomerang.  I considered taking it to Goodwill, but I felt a strange attachment to it and decided I'd better hang onto it...just in case.

Well, it helped out a great deal at Christmastime, when all five boys, four daughters-in-law, and four grandchildren were staying under our grateful roof.  We dropped one leaf and pushed it up to the end of our long dining room table, and it gave us just enough extra seating.  That's it, at the far end in this photo.

I have not had time to take down our Christmas decorations yet, because we've been living mostly in VA since early January, with only quick trips north to take care of business and check on our house.  The only thing I've had the time or energy to pack away is our giant Nativity set.

But I did finally take the Christmas tablecloths off when we were home earlier this month, and I was going to move the drop-leaf table out of the room.  I thought about banishing it to the basement once again, but then I decided that since we have such a ginormous dining room (really, it's a monster--the kitchen could be bigger, but the dining room is something else), maybe I would keep it handy for the next time we all gather in that room.

So here's what I did with it.

I actually think this little table looks adorable here, nestled under the window.  I just may use it in the future for romantic candlelit dinners for two.  I'd simply have to pull it out from the wall a little bit, and then push it back when we're through with it.  Isn't it sweet?   (I'm not letting you answer "no"--so again, rhetorical.)

It just goes to show that if you buy well-made pieces, they will last forever.  Oak is pretty much indestructible.  This table is 30-plus years old now, and it has survived multiple moves completely intact.  And just when I thought we couldn't possibly need it anymore, it appears that we're going to be able to put it to very good use once again.  Yes, it's an oldie; but boy, is it a goodie.

It's the circle of life for this circle-shaped table: When our family was young and small, it was perfect for us, but we outgrew it; and now that our family is so much bigger, we need it all over again.

Do you have any pieces of furniture in your home that have special significance or sentimental value?  Do share!