Christmas Village Wards Off Sadness
Janene Licha’s escape is as close as her heartache.
It gives her purpose when she’s up at 3 a.m. with her mother and distracts her from the agony of watching Alzheimer’s disease steal a loved one.
“This helps me keep sane,” Janene says, gesturing like a game show hostess to a miniature Christmas village twinkling by her living room.
The village protrudes from her wall as naturally as if its tiny occupants spotted her wet bar a century ago and decided it was the perfect spot for a town to evolve.
“I don’t know what happens,” Janene says. “I set down buildings and my hands move them around.”
The buildings she chooses are Tudor and old English collectibles. They’re hand-sized ceramic haberdasheries and banks, pewter shops and stock exchanges, taverns and puppet theaters.
The sleepy homes belong to such characters as Charles Dickens and Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, Elizabeth Barrett Browning and Jane Austen.
Wrought-iron street lamps light snowy lanes where shoppers stroll and vendors hawk gingerbread and hot chestnuts. Rock cliffs lift the village into its own magical realm in the midst of Janene’s 20th century home.
“I love Christmas. It’s one of my favorite holidays,” she says as she examines her 2-year-old grandson’s mouth for evidence of chocolate. “I like to create something for the kids.”
Christmas is everywhere in her house, from gold-wrapped chocolates and antiqued ribbons to white lights, candles and angels.
A ceiling-high flocked tree glitters at one end of her living room, a counter-high green tree at the other.
Craftsmanship is generations old in her family. Her grandmother built miniature birdcages and wishing wells from stone. Her aunt oil paints.
Janene, 59, began her hobby with model trains years ago in Sherman Oaks, Calif.
“We took our whole dining room and turned it into a train room,” she says. “We had bridges, trestles, a trolley up the wall, hot air balloons on the ceiling.”
It all went into boxes when her family moved to Hayden Lake four years ago. Her mother, Doris Archdekin, had been diagnosed with Alzheimer’s. Janene’s daughter, Janette Villagomez, had a new baby. They needed a saner environment.
They found their Eden north of Hayden Lake off a dirt road heading deep into the forest. Janene and her husband built a spacious home with a counter and small sink separating the living room from the entryway.
Within a year of moving in, Janene covered the counter with layers of white plastic foam and began placing ceramic buildings on top. She added levels and trees, streets and lights. Her trusty glue gun anchored everything.
Pea gravel from the llama pen was perfect material for retaining walls on the hillsides. Plastic wrap with lights behind it worked for the running water effect.
“I just wait for the ideas to come. I don’t ask anyone,” she says. “I’m a frustrated set designer.”
She planned to pack away the village after Christmas, but didn’t have any place to store it. So it stayed and it grew as her mother interrupted Janene’s nights more and more frequently.
Santa’s village blossomed on the south side of the counter, with snowmen, elves, candy cane lightpoles and ice sculptures. To the west, Janene added a spinning carousel and skaters cutting figures on a frozen pond.
She pulled gravel from a bowl in her lap and glued it piece by piece with the patience of a mosaic artist.
“It never gets to be work,” she says.
Janene works on the village most persistently during the fall, turning her attention to other projects - beaded purses, pinecone trees - during the rest of the year.
Doris wanders at night, as Alzheimer’s patients do, and occasionally crashes into Janene’s work. Doris walks with her head down. Janene picks up the pieces, slides her chair closer to her village and grabs her glue gun.
“I don’t drink. I don’t smoke or do drugs,” she says. “I build.”
, DataTimes ILLUSTRATION: Color Photo