The words of author Christina Baldwin have meant so much to me in 2011:

The power of story is understood by the powerful, yet the power of story belongs to all of us, especially the least powerful.

I started the year very cold and sad because I was just so cold. (The tire house was not built to handle our winters.) I knew I had to stretch myself to become something more. I knew I had to carve a path that could bring me to a warm, comfortable home again one day.

My motto was simple: become

1. I wanted to become more in my business.

The shop has grown and grown. It even won a green business award from our governor!

2. I wanted to become a friend within my rural community.

Is there anything more wonderful than a few great friends nearby? I pinch myself each time I realize how lucky I have become in friendship this year. (And you know what? All of those friendships came because of THIS blog.)

3. I wanted to become connected to the stories of my past.

No matter how busy we are around here, I wanted to pause and celebrate family and family traditions/stories. I found some new heros along the way and embraced the loss of my grandfather to Alzheimer’s like I could never do before.

4. I wanted to become a girl in her very own (warm) home.

If you’d asked me in January 2011 how things would go, I would not have been able to say, “I’m moving into the back of an old airplane hangar.” Back then, I just knew I wanted something more.

In May, Martin and I were in Germany. We found ourselves taking the deepest, bravest breaths of our lives as we decided to return to the US and become home owners… of sorts! We’ve been decluttering and building up ever since.

4. I wanted to become comfortable in my clothes, comfortable with being me.

The No New Clothes Challenge was awesome this year! I patched sweaters and learned how to reattach buttons. I found my signature look. I learned the power of a shining inner beauty.

5. I wanted to become a storykeeper and guide and inspire others to celebrate their stories.

So many women opened pages of their journals – and with them, their hearts – for all of us to read their stories. I’m so, so grateful. I loved sharing peeks in my books and projects. I loved creating new journals (including the Jump Up kid journal and Seeking Grace prayer journal) this year.

There is still so much Martin and I dream about, so much we want to do together.

I’m so grateful to have you all on this journey with us. Thank you a million times. You have become such an important part of our life and story.

The funny thing about all of these becomes is that I didn’t remember to ask for help when I most needed it. I just kept pushing and pushing to do it all.

In the end, Martin and I found ourselves rushing to the emergency room. I remember just sitting in the passenger seat of the car with my slippers on, squeezing a clean cloth around my hand. I had sliced my finger open. It needed five stitches.

All of a sudden, I couldn’t do the things that I was always doing. I couldn’t build journals or tape envelopes shut. I sure couldn’t work at the hangar or even scrub our dishes. Typing was difficult. Everything was. Everything is. And it’s going to keep being hard until my finger heals.

I forgive myself for pushing too hard for too long. (This has not been easy to allow myself to do.)

I am accepting the low inventory at Gadanke right now and taking time to relax and heal.

2011 was a beautiful year with so much beauty and richness. I loved it with all the good and bad it brought. I learned so much. I laughed and smiled so much. I loved so much.

And as for you, 2012? I’ve got big plans for you, mister.

Happy New Year, everyone! We’re going to make it beautiful.

Interested in 2010′s personal theme? It was be true to yourself, not your stuff. Yeah… 2010 was our year of decluttering.

We’re going to head into the holiday weekend a little early over here. We have these Czech Christmas cookies and these German Christmas cookies ready to go. I even had to tape the tin shut to keep out curious little fingers.

As the craziness begins, we want to ring the bells, sound the horns, beat the drums.. and wish all of you a big, “HAPPY HOLIDAYS!”

My grandfather would have turned 99 years old on Christmas morning. One of his greatest legacies in our family came every Christmas Eve when he made a hot, spiked batch of Tom and Jerrys for everyone. I have no idea how this drink became so iconic in our family. (It is a very popular Christmas cocktail in the US that could best described as a hot, spiked eggnog.)

It’s been on my mind a lot this season.

If I close my eyes, I can be back in my grandparents’ house 20 years ago. I can imagine my grandfather (and later one of my uncles) mixing up the Tom and Jerry batter in the kitchen. I can smell the pine scent of the biggest Christmas trees I’d ever seen. One of my uncles would come into the living room with a little tray of handmade pottery mugs made by my grandma. Each mug would be filled to the brim with an alcohol-free Tom and Jerry for my cousins and me. Later the alcoholic ones would start coming out for all our older cousins and relatives. “Don’t spill it,” we’d be told over and over. And we never did. The mugs in our hands were just too sacred. They made us feel like we were a part of something really special: this family.

I recently pulled out the recipe from an old family cookbook and distributed it to a bunch of cousins. We’ve decided to recreate the Tom and Jerry tradition in our homes. I suppose it could never be exactly the same. Memories never are. But we can recapture and recreate traditions in our own ways. Future generations can celebrate and love with mugs of Tom and Jerry, too.

So you know me. I had to document this piece of holiday tradition in my Christmas journal.

I used the tag that comes with the Joy to the World Christmas journal at Gadanke. I taped on scraps of red and green paper cut like pennants. Then I wrote my grandfather’s recipe. (Later, I added a red ribbon on the top, as shown on the first photo.)

I wrote the story of Tom and Jerrys on the back and tucked the tag into my journal.

I think I’d like to tell more of this story later in this book. And of course, I can’t wait for sipping some.

Here’s my grandpa’s recipe if you’re interested. It’s not a sweet drink, which can be a nice change.

Tom and Jerry

1. Heat mugs by filling each with hot water.
2. While mugs are heating, mix 1 quart dry milk with hot water.
3. Place 2-3 eggs into mixer and beat; add sugar until white and fluffy.
4. Empty hot water from mugs.
5. Into each mug add 1 jigger brandy; 1/2 jigger rum; 2 tbsp mix.
6. Fill mug with hot milk. Relish with nutmeg, spoon and serve.

Tell us about a Christmas memory from your childhood. Tell us about your grandparents at Christmastime.

It’s quiet here this morning. I can see my breath and feel a freezing sensation in my nose when I inhale. In the sky, there is nothing but an icy blue. A fog snuggles tightly into the edge of the valley as I walk over to the hangar. I want to hurry to keep warm; I want to slow down to enjoy the beauty of outside.

Journals have been flying off my shelves and right under so many Christmas trees. It’s an incredible experience to build all of these holiday packages for all of you! My work comes with a lot of chaos and noise. There isn’t much silence.

But right now in the early morning? There is silence.

I walk around the perimeter of the hangar. I see evidence of the progress Martin is making with remodeling our future home in the back of the building. I haven’t been much help to him; I am processing journal orders as he’s making all these changes. I’m finalizing Christmas plans and wrapping gifts for the people we love. As a small handmade business owner, I want to give our dollars to other small and handmade businesses. I want to be a link in that chain. This year, I think we did that.

This year, I think we’ve done so much. I think you and I have shared so much.

My parents sold their house last weekend. The house was much too big for two people. It was a very exciting but equally sad time for us all. Saying goodbye to your childhood home is always like that. I think of all the different corners of the house and all the memories I have.

There was the first time Martin called me; I was playing Christmas songs on the piano as my mom and sister sat on the couch behind me. There was the day my brother handed me my new niece last Christmas in the kitchen. And before all of that, there was posing for First Day of School photos when it was so smokey from forest fires that we couldn’t even see the mountains right behind us.

There was packing for summer camp and throwing socks at the living room fan when my sister and I were supposed to be folding laundry. There was learning how do to laundry. There was my dad and me at the table with a plastic blue filing box for organizing and picking which college I wanted to go to, and my mom making me use an electric typewriter to fill out all my scholarship applications. There was learning how to play chess in the basement at 3:00 am on Christmas when my brother and I couldn’t sleep. There was our beloved cat who drank from the Christmas tree stand and liked to sit on the lap of whoever was at the computer.

There was joy.

In so many ways, I feel myself shutting doors to one home while preparing to open the doors of a new, unconventional home. And again, it’s so sad but so exciting.

The incredible thing about home is that it really has nothing to do with the building. It’s all about the people. A home is just the setting for all the stories of our lives. You don’t need a perfect home to have a good life. You just need good people that you love and a passion to live.

One of my greatest goals isn’t for business. It’s for home. I want to create a home that is welcoming for all our friends and family… the way my parents have always done.

The Montana cold is making my toes curl. I finally put my hand on the frozen metal doorknob and open the hangar door. I step into the chaos of remodeling and stomp the snow off my feet. I inhale the warmer air. And I wonder: what are the memories we will be making in this home? What are the moments we will write in our hearts?

Late at night, I make two milky hot chocolates. Martin is wrapped in a thick quilt. I hand him one and wrap myself in a quilt. We pause and sip. I always want moments like this to last forever.

Neither of us can contain our excitement for the progress we make on the hangar remodel.

It will be so nice to have a place we can call home again.

We had to tear up the floor to install plumbing. Now here’s Martin measuring our future kitchen counter. Oops! I can’t be taking pictures. I’m supposed to be writing down numbers. Hang on a second…

I get so wrapped up in this project that I forget how time is slipping by. How Christmas will be here.

We don’t have a tree or stockings this year. (We’ve actually never had a tree for just the two of us.) There are no advent candles on our table or little advent calendars with tasty chocolates.

There’s just Martin, me, a very dirty hangar, and a dream.

We’re carrying Christmas in our hearts. If I am not careful, I can find myself slipping into sadness when I see all the beautiful holiday decor being showcased around the blogosphere, in stores, and in the windows of homes we drive by. When that happens, I have to pause. I have to remind myself that Christmas isn’t an outward expression. It’s the way we feel in our hearts. It’s the way we feel and give to one another.

It’s handing Martin a hot chocolate at the end of the night and knowing. Embrace today. It’s beautiful.

(Shared with The Christmas Tour of Homes)

Hello to a new week!

Today, I want to introduce you to Brienne. She is an awesome 9-year-old girl up in Canada.

She’s letting us peek inside her “Jump Up” Kid’s Journal from Gadanke.

I think you’ll adore the pages of her journal.

Brienne is home schooled by long-time reader, Renee.

If you’re looking for a blog on simple living in the country (with really amazing tutorials on soap making!), Renee’s “Fun In My Back Yard” blog – aka FIMBY – has you covered. Her posts reminds me of my childhood, always venturing into the country as a family and challenging you and me to do the same. Heck, Renee isn’t embarassed to admit that she has to change her blog posting plans sometimes… becase they went on a family hike instead!

What a cool mom!

Here’s a peek at one of the pages from Brienne’s book. I think you’ll agree; what a cool girl, too!

You can flip through more pages of Brienna’s kid journal right here along with 10 other readers’ journals. What an awesome collection we’ve got going! (Brienne’s last page is my favorite!)

And if there are little kiddos in your life that you’d like to inspire to journal, check out the “Jump Up” journals for kids at Gadanke! There’s even a discounted family pack of three kid journals.

Now let’s give Brienne a little treat and all say hi. Maybe tell her a favorite joke from when you were a kid or a joke you keep hearing from kids today.