Jamie Janosz

The day after Christmas is one of my least favorite days. There is so much rushing around to prepare for the holidays, that the day after feels so utterly quiet. I almost don't know what to do with myself. Plus, here in the Chicago burbs, it is cloudy without even one spot of sunshine. It is too chilly and windy for a walk - and I'm still feeling bloated from too many butter-dipped Christmas crab legs. So, I've been cleaning. Taking empty boxes and bits of Christmas decor down to the basement. I reorganized my closet a bit to make room for new treasures. Here are a few of my favorite vintage gifts from this Christmas...Thanks to my husband, daughter, mom, sister, and all of those who know my love for retro gems: My mom-in-law Helen treated me to this 1950s satin cocktail dress that I had been watching on etsy . Little gold oriental leaves and a very cool sash at the back. Also on etsy, this 1940s kelly green suit jacket - I feel like I stepped right out of a...

My Grandma Storms passed down a Christmas recipe to me, creatively called "Brown Cookies." While the name is as plain as can be, these rolled, cut-out, molasses cookies were a delicious and cherished part of our family Christmas.  They were thin, crispy, and cut into hearts, circles and stars. She would store them in layers separated by wax paper in old metal tins. Their only adornment was one candy red hot in the center. They were brown...and delicious. My Grandma was a stern, Christian, German woman. Elsie was a single one-room schoolhouse teacher for many years, until she met and married my grandpa, Phil, and had two sons: Neil (my dad) and Ken. They lived in a two-story house in Moline, Illinois, just on the edge of the Mississippi River.  My grandpa died when I was fairly young, so most of my Christmas memories involve my grandma as a fiercely, independent widow. She orchestrated our pre-dinner rituals like she was teaching a class. Each of us...

The tragic and senseless killing in Connecticut has left the world stunned and devastated. How can things like this happen? How could anyone be so evil? Why can't we stop atrocities like this from happening? And yet the clock keeps ticking and our advent calendar steadily approaches Christmas. I feel a bit schizophrenic with my mood alternating rapidly between happiness and horror. One moment I am catching a glimpse of holiday lights or humming a beloved Bing Crosby tune, and the next I am entranced by a reporter on Fox News giving details about the shooting victims. I am horrified, and yet I cannot stop watching... How can happiness and horror coexist? I keep thinking that things like this should not happen at Christmas. But, why? They happen all the time. And Christmas does not promise insulation from the world. We have falsely believed that the days leading up to December 25th should be idyllic, a time of escape. It is our fantasy that life should be good and families g...

True confessions: I'm a thrift store addict. I love when I stumble on vintage treasures at a great bargain. Last week, my husband and I spotted a collection of souvenir glasses. We took all 24 of them for about 20 cents a piece. Each glass has a unique restaurant or location printed on it and many of these places no longer exist. A few have great stories. The state collection glasses are ones that I have seen before - but many of the others are new to me! I loved the little Cypress Gardens shot glass with female water-skiers. This is one of three Florida Beer glasses, La Tropical Ale, that are from a defunct brewery in Tampa that imported beer from Cuba. Russell's Silver Bar and Restaurant in Chicago was a mafia hangout in the 1950's. Oh, the stories these glasses could probably tell!

When I was a little girl, in the 1960s, television stations did local children's programming. The result was one-of-a-kind, low-budget creativity - with stop animation and live men taking on characters like Bozo the Clown, Ray Rayner, and Captain Kangaroo. I always knew it was Christmas when WGN would air my favorite short "cartoons": Suzy Snowflake , Frosty the Snowman , and Hardrock, Coco, and Joe - formally titled The Three Little Dwarfs . I would sit in rapt attention in front of our black-and-white television set, bowl of Cocoa Wheats in hand, and enjoy these holiday classics. My husband remembers it, too. And, we tried to share the video clipwith my daughter - who was five at the time. She declared it "scary". I guess it is, by today's standards, but the music is catchy - and there is a wry bit of humor that I still find entertaining. I think I'll grab a bowl of Cocoa Wheats and revert to my childhood! Here it is: Hard Rock, Coco, ...

Every year, we have taken a short drive away from our suburban home to the family-owned Luer's Christmas Tree Farm in Schererville, Indiana.  My husband grumbles a bit. Why don't we just buy a tree from the Walmart parking lot where they are so nicely displayed, wrapped, and offered at a reasonable price? It would probably be easier, true... But, there is something magical about wandering through rows of firs, pines, and balsams. It is peaceful here, and I breathe deeply - the scent of trees is almost heady in the Midwestern winter air. This feels like Christmas to me - no shoppers, no traffic, not even any LED lights. Just simple and pure and honest...just us. I like how you can look over the horizon and see nothing but trees. If the weather is chilly, you can see puffs of your breath and your toes start to get numb, even with layers of socks and boots.  My daughter and I wander from tree to tree. "This one is perfect," I'll announ...