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What are your favourite memories of Christmas past?

For most of us that will involve some kind of food.

It is one of those very rare times of the year when you are not only encouraged, but basically expected to overeat.

High five!

One of my favourite memories is of my Grandma’s wreath.

It was no ordinary wreath, this one was made up of chocolates! I think it came straight from Charlie and the Chocolate Factory. She only had them when I was very young then one year she said she wasn’t able to find them anymore. Cue very unhappy kid face here.

There is a fortune waiting to be made on wreaths chocked full of individually wrapped chocolates people! Wouldn’t you like one? I would. For my bedroom. You know, some nice light 2 am snacking.

We always had to make a day’s long drive to see my Grandparents and the first thing we did upon arrival was run downstairs and find that sweet candy wreath.

Often I’d have to get a stool to help me reach the wreath as it was always just out of my reach and then on my tippy tippy toes I’d grab as many of those delectable chocolates as my little hands could hold.

My mouth is watering just thinking about it.

My Grandma also had a magic chip bowl which I’ve written about before.

This was a few years after that incredible chocolate wreath was no more.

As soon as we got in the door I would run straight to the best spot in front of that chip bowl and eat Sour Cream and Onion Old Dutch potato chips with onion dip until my lips turned blue. That magic bowl was never empty. Just as it started getting low Grandma would appear out of nowhere, having accessed her hidden stash of chips and dump two fresh bags into the bowl. It was a Christmas miracle!

Grandma of Christmas Past — My Dad’s Mom, Marge. I’m with one of my cousins and my favourite doll.

My other Grandma had a cold room in her basement where she stored all of her homemade treats.

She made everything herself. There were German cookies, shortbread cookies, gingerbread men, cakes and squares. It was sugar and butter nirvana in that dark little cold room.

As soon as we arrived at her place we said a quick hello and then it was a quick bee-line to the cold room, often times my Dad in the lead each of us hoping to get there first to find where the best cookies were hidden.

Grandma would yell down,

“Don’t go in the cold room and eat everything! You’ll spoil your appetites!”

My Dad would yell back,

“Don’t worry! We’re just looking Grandma!”

Meanwhile we’d be opening up all the ice cream buckets that held different cookies grabbing a couple of each, shoving them in our mouths and passing them around to the next kid like the sugar junkies we were. It was all so naughty and nice.

And finally, because it isn’t a personal style blog without a bit of personal style here I am wearing one of my Christmas outfits with my sister looking rather pissed.

For 99% of my life I hated having my photo taken, and you can see just how pleased I look here. I can remember being told to smile for the photo. Look at what an obedient kid I was! Ha ha!

Of course it might have something to do with those horrible home perms we were forced into that stank for days. Or maybe it was the fact that my Grandma always sewed the exact same outfit for my sister, thus proving that I was not a unique individual with my own tastes and desires, but simply a kid that had to dress exactly like her sister because my Grandma didn’t want to waste fabric and we couldn’t afford otherwise.

At the age of eleven my family bought an ice cream shop and I began my first job scooping ice cream and selling hot dogs, popcorn, malts and milkshakes. From that day on I’ve never worn the same thing as my sister or anyone else for that matter. I was able to buy whatever I liked with my own money. I’ve never looked back!

As far as outfits for Christmas this year, I may wear this dress on Christmas Eve…

It is a far cry from my pantsuit and ruffled lace blouse.

The dress is wonderfully comfortable and soft but isn’t exactly food friendly.

There will be no sitting by the chip bowl eating till my lips turn blue in this dress.

Also this dress may be a pug hair magnet as it is velvet.

What isn’t a pug hair magnet at this time of year? It’s dry, it’s cold and my pug is shedding her weight in fur daily. I think I could make two brand new baby pugs from the fur she’s shed in the last week.

I need teflon antipughair coated clothing.

I wish this dress had long sleeves. It’s a bit chilly to go without sleeves.

It works very well with my floor length velvet duster which adds the sleeves I require at this time of year, but covers up the awesomeness of the dress.

There I am doing my best version of a statue that is trying to stand very still to avoid contamination by random pug hair.

As long as I don’t sit down anywhere in the house I should be fine.

This is another one of those great vintage pieces I’m undecided about selling. I think I need to take it out on the town at least once before it finds a new owner.

What about you? What are your favourite Christmas memories? Food or fashion wise?

I will be taking a bloggy break until after the holidays.

I will still be updating Vintage By Suzanne and posting randomly on Instagram but otherwise I will catch up with you again in the New Year.

From my heart to yours, wishing you a wonderful holiday filled with chocolate covered wreaths happiness and endless bowls of chips love.

Linking up with Visible Monday, I Will Wear What I Like, Shoe and Tell, Turning Heads Tuesdays,

Up until my mid twenties I travelled lots, mostly on a shoestring, with no set agendas, no real plans, just a backpack (that weighed almost as much as me) and a love of adventure.

Suzanne Carillo riding a camel Tunisia 1987 — Riding a camel Tunisia 1987

This attitude took me to many countries and I was able to meet loads of new interesting people. I was thrown into many challenging situations and often worked in locations that I would have never chosen otherwise. I feel that these challenges made me grow as a person and taught me invaluable life lessons.

I’ve worked on a remote hunting lodge in the north of Scotland with no electricity, in a bar in south London where sometimes the customers would wear no pants, as a private english teacher in Italy with an impossible demanding spoiled family, as a home care helper for old people, both sweet and horrible all over the UK.

I can remember travelling with my sister, placing a map in front of us, closing our eyes and randomly pointing to the location on the map as our next destination.

Nothing was planned. Nothing was organized. We just went.

Berber Maiden fashion show Tunis — Berber maiden Tunis fashion show

Along the way I’ve been put handcuffed in the back of a paddy wagon in Marseille, been terrified of an 85 year old woman in England, lost all of my belongings between Spain and France (thus why I have almost no photos of my travels, all of these were taken after), seen countless men masturbating on street corners (no joke…what is that about Italy???), taken the wrong train/bus numerous times, ridden the bus in Rome wearing only men’s boxer shorts and a t- shirt without underwear ( this was after all our bags were stolen and we had hand washed our undies and they were still drying), learned how to cook on an Aga, driven on the wrong side of the road, and felt the sting of humiliation while working for the very wealthy.

It wasn’t all good. It wasn’t all bad. Mostly, though I lived life. Risks weren’t a problem. Every day was a new adventure. I lived with abandon, changing boyfriends, situations and jobs as my mood dictated.

Thanksgiving France 1990 — My Bedroom – Thanksgiving France Montpellier 1990

I might also mention that it was through these travels that I met my husband some 24 years ago.

Robert and Suzanne Carillo France 1990 — Oh man we look so YOUNG!!!

I just read about Vix’s trip to India where she managed to live on what is the equivalent to about $42 per day for herself and partner Jon.

Vix and I are the same age, but she is still able to travel like a 20 year old.

Me, somewhere along the way I decided that travelling with risk was no longer my thing. I’d become pampered and lazy, choosing instead all inclusive resorts, fancy hotels, guaranteed lodging, preplanned itineraries and organized transportation. Removing the risk inevitably removes some of the thrill and much of the opportunity for unforeseen pleasures or problems.

I can remember staying in countless hostels and very cheap rooms that were gross or downright disgusting but in the end there was almost always laughter and fabulous stories to tell, yet the older I get the more cautious I’ve become. I’m keenly aware that if I decided to take the path less travelled that I might get more than what I’d bargained for. Both in a positive and negative way.

I’m obsessed about not “wasting time” while travelling. The older I get the more I’m aware of what I consider to be wasting time. Must have something to do with the fact that I’m running out of it.

Instead of the journey to the destination being part of the travels, I’m focused strictly on arriving and doing what I’d planned.

I want to get there, with as little hassle as possible, get to my room, and then get on the beach or to the show, museum, tourist attraction efficiently. No time for serendipity to enter into the equation.

I can’t help but wonder, “Are my choices aging me?”

They say that one of the best things to avoid aging of the mind is to ensure you are constantly doing new things. The older we get, the harder those are to find. If you plan less, your life is open to more. More problems, more adventures, more unique unforeseen opportunities. However, sometimes if you plan less you can also end up doing…well…a whole lot less.

Reading about Vix’s travels made me nostalgic for my younger self. I so desperately want to not care about risks, but I find I am incapable of pushing that from my mind. I loved reading about it, vicariously living through Vix, but I can no longer envision myself doing it. Too much to think about. Too much to worry about. It seems exhausting.

I haven’t gotten to the point where I need to go back to the same vacation spot every year. I still like to visit new places, eat new food, experience new things, but all while I’m guaranteed my daily comforts. Change is good…but too much change? Not-so-much. I think that is a sign of age. I’m too settled in my ways.

How about you? Do you find as you age that you are risk adverse? Are you still able to find new experiences and situations to challenge your mind? Do you prefer comfort over adventure? Safety over excitement?

PS You might like to read about when I went overseas to Amsterdam to meet bloggers that I’d never met before…my (older self) version of taking travel risks.

Linking up with the lovely Judith for Hat Attack

Of Christmas Past

What are your favourite memories of Christmas past?

It is one of those very rare times of the year when you are not only encouraged, but basically expected to overeat.

One of my favourite memories is of my Grandma’s wreath.

We always had to make a day’s long drive to see my Grandparents and the first thing we did upon arrival was run downstairs and find that sweet candy wreath.

My Grandma also had a magic chip bowl which I’ve written about before.

My other Grandma had a cold room in her basement where she stored all of her homemade treats.

And finally, because it isn’t a personal style blog without a bit of personal style here I am wearing one of my Christmas outfits with my sister looking rather pissed.

As far as outfits for Christmas this year, I may wear this dress on Christmas Eve…

It is a far cry from my pantsuit and ruffled lace blouse.

Also this dress may be a pug hair magnet as it is velvet.

There I am doing my best version of a statue that is trying to stand very still to avoid contamination by random pug hair.

What about you? What are your favourite Christmas memories? Food or fashion wise?

From my heart to yours, wishing you a wonderful holiday filled with chocolate covered wreaths happiness and endless bowls of chips love.

Are My Choices Aging Me?

vintagebysuzanne

What are your favourite memories of Christmas past?

It is one of those very rare times of the year when you are not only encouraged, but basically expected to overeat.

One of my favourite memories is of my Grandma’s wreath.

We always had to make a day’s long drive to see my Grandparents and the first thing we did upon arrival was run downstairs and find that sweet candy wreath.

My Grandma also had a magic chip bowl which I’ve written about before.

My other Grandma had a cold room in her basement where she stored all of her homemade treats.

And finally, because it isn’t a personal style blog without a bit of personal style here I am wearing one of my Christmas outfits with my sister looking rather pissed.

As far as outfits for Christmas this year, I may wear this dress on Christmas Eve…

It is a far cry from my pantsuit and ruffled lace blouse.

Also this dress may be a pug hair magnet as it is velvet.

There I am doing my best version of a statue that is trying to stand very still to avoid contamination by random pug hair.

What about you? What are your favourite Christmas memories? Food or fashion wise?

From my heart to yours, wishing you a wonderful holiday filled with chocolate covered wreaths happiness and endless bowls of chips love.

vintagebysuzanne

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