“Repair, Repaint, Replace, Rehang"

Annual Spring chores weave through my weeks. Some, like raking and bagging leaves, take many days and have a high reward feedback. Nothing feels better than toning my muscles while raking, bending, and hauling away winter’s debris. Sitting on the ground, planting bulbs or standing over fresh soil scattering flower seeds shifts me into a waiting game. What will push through the ground? Will this new plant enjoy the spot I’ve found for it?

Over the years, I’ve grown to love caring for my mother’s outdoor wind chime collection. When we traveled together after Dad died, Mom began seeking out wind chimes as a souveunir for our adventures. Many of them hung inside her apartment and assisted living room. Those indoor chimes found a spot in my sister’s kitchen. The outdoor ones hung in our Mountain Laurel bush by our front door. Occasionally, I added my own to the collection. Every year since Mom’s death, I’ve cared for them.

The other day, I removed all of the wind chimes to inspect which ones could be repaired and repainted. One of the newer ones, topped with cardinals, had rusted beyond repair. I cut off the parts with an eye of scalvaging pieces for repairing missing parts of other chimes. As the hot tub’s tarp will be replaced soon, I decided to use it as my painting surface. Selecting paint colors gets narrowed into only a few options as I love using whatever supply remains in our bins from the leftovers of other art projects. This added layer of challenge turns into unexpected color choices each year, but it means nothing goes to waste in our art supplies. 

Adding a new wind chime to my collection became extremely easy as I found the perfect fairy perched by the moon to suspend in the bush.  Her position in the Mountain Laurel  rippled into shifting all of the others into slightly different spots. I spent as much time rehanging each one as I did in repairing them. 

This ritual, “repair, repaint, replace, rehang” sets the tone for everything I do in my life. As the world batters me and my relationships, I keep keenly focused on what can be repaired and restored. I have shifted some friendships into new places, rehanging them by tucking them to secure places. They still impact my life, but a little distance gives me the ability to find new people that bring me joy. 

Copyright 2026 Elizabeth Abrams Chapman

 

Repair

Repaint

LOVE listening to JCMG MUSIC's "Smile You're on Camera" when doing all of my projects!

HELP new talent by LISTENING, LIKING, COMMENTING, REPOSTING and SUBSCRIBING!

"First Love"

Shoulder length hair
          streaked with fairies’ gold
          pixie dust sprinkled across her pert nose
          braces and rubber bands
          long legs reaching almost to her chin
          a ready smile and a contagious laugh
 
A year of friendship
          spent playing hide-n-go-seek
          swimming at Grandma’s
          trips to the lake house at Canyon
          homework marathons
          and a “first date” at the movies—alone 
 
A year as a couple
          buying Ty beanies because she thinks they’re cute
          Valentine’s Day takes weeks and weeks of allowance
          long phone chats
          Alicia Silverstone, Spice Girls, and the Magic Time Machine
          friends forever
 
He whispers
          as night embraces him
          “Mom, she’s the one.”
          “I’ll never love another girl.”
          “She’s different and special.”
          I feel the weight of his adoration
 
Times change gradually
          her legginess turns to curves
          mascara darkens her lashes
          her Tom boyish walk turns to graceful pirouettes
          her need for popularity outstrips him
 
He understands
          his boyish charm keeps trying
          his cherub face beams when she’s near
          his voice becomes husky when she’s on the phone
          she enchants him still
          even when she’s walking away

 

First love and all of the loves that follow found in IOUNIO's "Scared"

Support talent by SUBSCRIBING to the IOUNIO's YouTube channel. Leaving a COMMENT and adding LIKE and SHARE help too!

Copyright 1999 Elizabeth Abrams Chapman
 

“Teapots and Faeries—Part Two”

Newest addition!

 

            Recently, I relocated my faery collection into the living room and kitchen instead of the family room. Because the statues had resided so long in one location, they’d shifted in my attention to background noise. New locations, spreading faeries throughout two rooms instead of one, attracts visitors' eyes, too. Our front window showcases several figurines that anyone walking up to the door can see. By drawing this collection forward, I’ve ended up adding to them with an outside faerie in the front garden.

             The ripple down from moving my faeries into the kitchen resulted in my teapot collection, which continues to grow annually, to find new locations. I have some favorites that I use when sipping tea in the mornings, and others stay perched in spots just for display.

Copyright 2024 Elizabeth Abrams Chapman

 

“Brick and Mortar Revival”

  

            Rolling Oaks Mall opened in 1988 and became a go to place for our family with anchor stores of Penney’s, Dillard’s and Sears. When temperatures topped 100° day after day, we’d cool off by strolling through stores and grabbing lunch in the food court. My son’s passion for playing Pokémon cards found us sitting in competitions at the mall. Our annual Halloween parties ended with a round of parading for the various store’s treats. We took Santa pictures there. We practiced driving in the parking lots.

            Like so many malls throughout the country, this small mall struggles. The pandemic hit hard with places like Sears finally closing doors. To be honest, we neglected swinging by the mall in favor of places now much closer to home. Occasionally, we found ourselves dropping into Penney’s and swinging around to one of my favorite shops, Earthbound. Sometimes many months go between visits, and with malls trying to stay open and relevant, changes happen quickly.

            One Saturday, noticing an abnormally large number of cars in the mall’s lots, we let curiosity drop us into a slot and ventured inside. People flowed around the usually empty center with individual stalls set up selling almost anything imaginable. A quick conversation with one of the vendors revealed that the mall now holds weekend for specialized sellers. The calendar for 2024 promises “Cartoonapalooza” in a few weeks followed by “The Bad Decisions Sports Cards, Toys, Comics and Collectibles” event. Every month, different merchants will fill the malls interior spaces.   

            In addition to this weekend draw, the stores within the mall have changed, too, to provide unique shops that compliment Bath and Body Works, Zumiez, and Hot Topic. Our new favorite shop, Perfect Love and Perfect Trust, contains art and items that tap into whimsy. The new Radio Control Headquarters provides a place for enthusiasts to purchase and play with radio control toys. At the opposite end of the complex, a huge Battle Pub Games spreads out and draws in game players, too. Wrestling Shop Trademark and Collectables provides a wrestling ring on site!

            I can’t help but feel optimistic that the unusual and unique collection of shops and events will save Rolling Oaks Mall. The mixture of holiday traditions with a twist may prove enough to draw in customers for special events and draw them back again to participate in new hobbies and interests.

Copyright 2024 Elizabeth Abrams Chpaman

"Ornaments"

        

          The best part of decorating the tree comes from the delight of rediscovering favorite ornaments each year. I love carefully unpacking those special Christmas tree decorations that hold wonderful memories for us. When I cautiously pull the two white “snow” fairies out of their protective boxes, I re-experience the thrill I felt upon finding them in the store over thirty years ago. Even in the earliest days of our friendship, David and I loved all things fey, so discovering these adornments proved fateful.

         Over the years, my appreciation for Christmas ornaments led to an ever widening search for an addition to the collection. Many friends and family members contributed to our tree, and each year as I find the perfect place for each item, I take a moment to remember the giver of these small presents.
 

         I treasure both the little Asian inspired decorations we found in a box we inherited from David’s grandmother along with the last ornament my father picked out for us before he died.

          I cluster the trio of hand crafted ornaments my aunt made years ago, and find a special place for the lovely and unique snowflakes she fashioned.

 

The small collection of ornaments we made on a rainy and cold afternoon with a five-year-old Paul tug at my heart when I hang them each winter. This year, I cried as I held the delicate cross stitched decorations my mother so lovingly sewed years before her Huntington’s disease symptoms robbed her of so much.

 

  

         Decorating the tree at our house takes an entire day. Partly because we have so many adornments, but mainly because I linger over many of the memories these small embellishments bring forth.

 

Copyright 2011 Elizabeth Abrams Chapman

        

“Classy Classrooms?”

            My adventures as a substitute teacher mean I find myself visiting many different schools and spending my days slipping into someone’s personal space for eight hours at a time. I can’t help but notice the different atmospheres teachers create within their cinderblock walls.

            When I taught, my classroom became an extension of my personal taste. I usually had a corner designated for reading. For many years, a small couch with a pole lamp squatted in one area next to bookcases loaded with my favorites. Atop these shelves I’d place philodendrons in jugs of water, pictures of my son and pets, and sometimes fresh cut flowers to brighten the room. I always loaded a huge wicker laundry hamper with an assortment of pillows for Pillow Days. If my classes behaved, on Pillow Days, the students could grab their favorite cushion from the pile, retreat under desks, to the couch, or to a private place in the room, and read or write without the constraints of iron-hard chairs and desks. Whether I taught seniors or seventh graders, having days to stretch out with a pillow and a pencil or book became a special treat. Some days, I’d add to the atmosphere by having a “fireplace” by putting orange paper over the overhead projector to cast a warm glow into the room.

 

            As a substitute, I’ve learned that not all teachers spend as much time or energy on their classrooms as I did, and I have definitely noted the difference between male and female teachers. If I enter a man’s classroom, I find very little personal items on display. Some may have a photograph or two back by their desks, tucked in next to their computers, of their wives, children or pets. Some may even hang their diplomas along one wall. However, the classroom décor ends there. The posters, if any are on the walls, demonstrate functionality—equations or formulas, copies of historical documents, or a list of literary terms and definitions. My recent encounters with these male educators still have more in their rooms than my first department chair. His sparse room contained absolutely no posters except for a leggy pose of Jennifer Beals from Flashdance.

            Women educators utilize their classrooms as an extension of their personal taste. Instead of one or two personal pictures tucked discretely on a corner of their desks, they plaster photographs down entire file cabinets—attached to the metal furniture with frog magnets (or flowers, pigs, roadrunners, shoes—whatever fancy catches the woman’s attention and displays her passions). Personal furniture crams into the room, too. Women teachers tend to have bookcases and brightly painted hutches along a wall. Their cinderblock barely peaks out from behind a multitude of posters—some professionally printed, others work from current or past students. Nick-knacks clutter these women’s desktops and spill onto any open surface. Tape dispensers, staplers, little storage boxes—all color or theme coordinated!

            I doubt decorating a classroom impacts student learning directly. Studies probably show little correlation between the posters displayed in a room (or lack thereof) and student performance. However, I believe that the more “at home” a teacher feels within his or her space, the more that educator will enjoy the time spent in the classroom. Whether the utilitarian and uncluttered, streamline masculine décor or the colorful embellishments of the feminine influence, if an educator’s classroom becomes an extension of personality, everyone benefits.   

 

Copyright 2013 Elizabeth Abrams Chapman

           

"Teapots and Faeries"

 

My first teapot, a gift from my Aunt Esther, resides in my bedroom, tucked into a shelf with silk daisies sprouting from its top. I don’t think my aunt planned on the purchase, but who can resist the pleading green eyes of an eight-year-old asking for a teapot instead of toys? The pot, a plain brown Sadler from England, began a lifetime love of these wonderful vessels. Teapots became my well cherished gifts for Mother’s Day, Christmas, birthdays and anniversaries.

The collection rotates through the house with special holiday teapots making seasonal appearances. My prized tea set, brought back from Japan by my grandfather in the 1920s, includes a gilded dragon teapot that captured my childish imagination and enchants me still. My teapots, purchased more for their uniqueness than their values, hold warm memories as well as hot tea.

Back in 2002, my son (then sixteen) played a role playing game called Dark Age of Camelot with a guild filled with a remarkable mix of people. The guild suspended its eighteen-year-old or older requirement for members for Paul because they liked him so much. This eclectic group, with members from all around the United States and a few people from other countries, decided to host a LAN party in Shreveport, Louisiana and included Paul in their invitation. We decided to tag along and use the long weekend as a mini-vacation.

Shreveport’s museums, rose garden, and casinos kept us fairly busy, but the antique shops and curio boutiques lured me into their potpourri havens. One shop, in particular, captivated me with its fantasy displays of dolls, stuffed animals, gnomes and faeries. Two statues beguiled me so much that I made a rare and indulgent purchase.

Of course, my two faeries multiplied into a collection. The warrior set, that stands determined to battle, arrived one Christmas. Others appeared for special occasions while some flew into our home and perched on shelves and bookcases for no reason except to give me pleasure.

Copyright 2011 Elizabeth Abrams Chapman