Finding What I Wasn't Looking For..............

Sorry it's been so long, for the few of you who follow this blog.  It's been quite a year, and I will probably blog about it in the future, but not today. 

Today we made a mad dash to the garage to look for Christmas tins. I've been busier than I normally like to be for a while now, and haven't done much in the way of Christmas other than buying and throwing stuff in Wal Mart bags  wrapping presents.  Oh, and I put up the wreath.  That's it.  That's been my preparation.  I kind of miss putting up the ornaments, but I just got them out and looked at them last weekend and was satisfied.  We don't have room for a tree other than the little one with lights that I did not bring in from the garage today.  I've been sick.  And tired.  Sick and tired, and  that it is no doubt part of why what happened next hit me so hard.

During the search, My Youngest Baby found his Christmas stocking.  Joy registered on his face followed immediately by concern if not fear when he realized it was dirty.  He turned to me and held it out, asking if it would be all right with fear and hesitancy in his eyes.  I told him that it would, and that I would wash it.  He seemed relieved that it would be all right, and then pressed me as to whether or not I was going to hang up their stockings this year.  These stockings were knitted by my children's great-great aunt Ada and are the only stockings they have ever hung up.  There it was, a bit bedraggled but waiting for us.  It knew we would come.  We have never failed it, not one single time.

I said "Of course I am!" and managed not to cry until I got to the privacy of my bathroom and there I had my own little grieving session. 

This is the twin's last year at home, as far as I know.  They are 18, and will graduate in 5 short months and go out into the world and have wonderful lives, which is all very well and good.  I want them to!  I swear!!  

But.

I will be lucky to ever have them at home again, like it used to be.......

I know this because this is not my first rodeo.  I know this because the last year and a half has been defined by change and upheaval and wondering what the future holds.  I know this because getting my four children together at the same time has already become a pretty nice trick.  I know this because to live is to change, those are pretty much the rules of the game.

What I did not know was how much it meant to him (my last, the one that needed the most for the longest, the one who has bloomed into a young man at ease with himself) that his stocking was put up.  Still, like it used to be.  Like it always has been.  On the outside he looks like a man, but inside my little boy still exists, peeking out at me on occasion.  How I miss that child.

If you live long enough, and I'm sorry to be the one to tell you this, you will realize that eventually Christmas becomes a crap shoot, emotionally speaking.  It can be as bitter as it is sweet.  Lots of your memories will be of people who you love just as much, but have already passed, and the ache can be borne, must be borne, but the ache is added to.  Almost every year, it gets added to.  Another thing that has become clear to me in this last year or so is that I have reached the age where I am going to keep losing people.  It inevitably happens, and don't we all know this?  In our minds?  Yes, of course!  But there will come a day, eventually, when it dawns on you that you need to get used to it.  There is not even an "if you can" attached to that thought.  It's kind of brutal, but fear not, you will be pretty numb and it won't hurt that much.  You will be "resolute".

               res·o·lute

                            ˈrezəˌlo͞ot/

                                  adjective

1.                                   admirably purposeful, determined, and unwavering.

Okay, your goal will be to be "resolute".  Good luck.  It's a tricky little dance but the steps will come to you when you need them the most.  May you dance right through it.  

My thoughts of late have been heavily filled with memories of my children when they were little.  Crystal clear in my mind, right down to how their necks smelled like........ and how they felt against my chest as I held them close to me and kissed them there......... what they looked like asleep............... and funny things they said.  I guess it's my way of soaking in this last year before the nest is empty.  I don't know who I would be without them, and I needed this reminder.  On my "cry-y" days, as I call them, I despair that the mother they remember is the one who "nagged" them about their room, or a job, and they never remember, or can even know how much I loved them, sacrificed everything, cleaned and nursed and coached and sometimes scared other people to death in defense of them.  Basically I have felt like I've been left alone with my memories, but only on the "cry-y days".  Those days are not my favorite, but they come and they must be dealt with.  I deal with them in the bathroom, and just say I'm tired when they notice my eyes.  This song sums it up perfectly.  

I thought my kids were too old for Christmas, one of the worst things I think I've ever done as a mother.  Don't I know the most important thing you can do in the world is NOT to change?  Yes!  I know this!  (One of the worst things about being a mother is when the Voice In Your Head lectures you and you have no good excuse, so instead of trying to defend your worthless self, you just vow to do better in the future.  But you know the kids will always remember the time you DIDN'T!!   The struggle is REAL!)

The last year there have been things I was forced to change, but nothing that really bothered me.  I just walked on.  Some of the best advice I ever got in life was not actually advice about life, it was about golf.  It applies both places equally well, and that advice was this:  Advance the ball.  Do not stand there, anxiously plotting on how to hit that ball a mile (is that a long way for golf?  I don't even know.) and make sure it rolls within 3 feet of a little hole.  Just step up there, breathe through it and advance the damn ball.  One stroke at a time.  It's not really that big of a deal.

So today, instead of filling the Christmas tins we were looking for with cookies and candies,  as I had planned, I washed and hung up the stockings we were not looking for but found just in time.  My heart was pierced and I adjusted and advanced the ball.  I brought that stocking in and washed it on the delicate cycle.  I hung up both my baby's stockings by the chimney, with infinite care.  It might be the last time I ever get to do that while they are home.  Like it used to be.

Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas  from our house(es) to yours.  I wish you traditions and everything as close to the same as you are lucky enough to have this year.  Treasure it as you should, and may the bathroom be empty on your cry-y days.  

Sparkles and Sprinkles

Since Christmas was so strung out this year, this post covers a lot of time.  It was not all spent crying over the trashcan and coming late to the realization that your kids have left home...........5 years ago.  hahaha

Our house was visited by the amazing Abigail for a few days recently and I must say she adds a lot of sparkle.  Literally.  She came equipped with silver sequined boots and silver glitter ballet slippers.  To see those sparkly things in the pile of size 12 sneakers did my heart a world of good.  She came along at a time when I really needed her and has gotten me through some dark days.  (Ok-years.....but you see how perfectly it all works out?  And now another baby girl will be following in her footsteps.  I'm simply not the type to turn bedrooms into closets for myself.  I come from different stock, a more welcoming and less self-obsessed kind. ;)  No telling how long I can stave off the realization that the twins are gone before I have to face that, this way!  See?  There is a method to my madness.)

Adriana...you can see she is coming along beautifully

Her boots and shoes were only compliments to the rest of her wardrobe, which consisted of lots of tulle ruffles, sequined skirts and glitter leggings.  The dogs were the most thrilled of all.  Not only did she sparkle, but she moves a lot more than any human they have ever seen in the house.  A lot more.  They faithfully followed her everywhere she went and the three of them had a really great time playing a version of "the floor is made of lava".  This is what they did while Mimi tried to figure out how to get the video game player to play a movie......for 30 minutes......while she had one of the twins on the phone telling her exactly what to push on the controller.  He finally just had to come home, as his mother is so unfamiliar with controllers that it never occurred to her there are buttons on the front of the thing.  I couldn't even figure out what the buttons on top were supposed to do.  I'm proud of that, in the big picture.  Video games are one evil I have completely avoided.  It figures that I would pay the price when all I wanted to do was watch a simple video.  You say technology has advanced.  I say it's advanced right into the sewer, that's what I say.

So I let her open a Christmas present early.

Apron by Cheryl Arnold Craig of Cheryl's Sewing, Unionville, MO.  You can find her on FB or at    her blog

I think it is as adorable as she is in it!  We got to work right away.  I had several things already mixed up and ready to dip or bake, and we did both.

You always have make sure it's "fit ta eat"

We also had nice talks about who she was, as she is a big sister now.  She is not a baby anymore, but she is MY baby (her blue eyes looked up for confirmation at this, which I gave with alacrity).  She is a kid, not a big kid, though.  A little big kid, or as she put it "a widdle big kid".  She is just at the age where she still can't say some things and I try to hang onto these days especially hard.  It was interesting to see how she sees herself, not to mention me.  I know full well that the days when she knows everything already are just waiting a little ways ahead, so I intend to remember every one of these sweeter ones while I can.  Guess what else I got her?  I had to smile when I clean Mackenzie's room...remember the angel wings?  Without remembering them I had gotten Abigail some this year.  She loved them. 

She isn't into posing for pictures...yet.  I think that's Jack in the background, asking if she's going to eat that...

4 year old's simply tell you the most amazing things.  All true, nothing censored,  from their point of view.  You would be surprised at some of the things you learn, you should talk to one today.

She achieved Master Sprinkler status in a few hours, as she has so much sprinkling to do she had bottles in both hands, sprinkling for all she was worth.

Putting sprinkles into a cup gives you a nice mixture of red and green because let's face it:  who can ever decide between them?  And why should we have to choose?

My Bonus Daughter, her mom, sweet thing that she is, insisted we go "do something" during the week I had off.  This is one of the things I love most about my bonus daughter--she actually thinks of me and is willing to do whatever it takes to spend time with me.  She spreads sparkles wherever she goes, just like her daughter.  We met at high noon at a bowling alley and bowled a game.  We all had a great time, even though we are by no stretch of the imagination great bowlers.  It had been entirely too long since we had eaten at a bowling alley, too, as real bacon cheeseburgers and tenderloins were to be had for very reasonable prices.  It was a good day!

She is also young enough to grab up the camera and takes lots of pictures without focusing up our noses.  Just one skill I covet.....

My youngest baby is multi-talented: baby holding and keeping score simultaneously.

Everybody got plenty of practical and appreciated gifts, me included.  I got the warmest, softest new robe and slippers from the kids, which kept me all warm and snuggly, and this necklace I got for myself.  I LOVE it!

By ReBlinged.  You can find them on FB also.  They take vintage items and give them new life.  This is my version of a mother's ring.

I don't know if you remember or not but I vowed that my presents would be hand made this year at some point.  I did not say they would be hand-made by me, so the apron and the necklace still count.   But I did pretty good with what skills I have to work with and little time.  

We made LOTS of candy.  By far the most popular were the peanut butter balls.  Take 24 Nutter Butter cookies and crush 'em.  Mix with 8 oz. cream cheese, roll into balls, throw the balls in the freezer and then dip them in chocolate or almond bark.  Very good.  Tip: try to keep the balls small.  I have no patience and as a result my truffles ended up taking four bites to finish.  Two bites is about right.

It looks great, doesn't it?  None of it was hard.  Check out Kraftfoods.com and you too will feel like a wizard in the kitchen.  (Even if you didn't get a Snuggie-but if you did--watch the sleeves!)

I smashed the cookies by myself!

And in the interest of trying to survive without being able to get into a Dr., I came up with this:

Everybody went crazy for this stuff. * Some of them were actually  sick.

I found this on the blog http://HomesteadingSurvivalism.com, which I will have on my blog list soon.  They are redoing their website presently.  Check them out.  I  really like them.   For this I just cut up 2 lemons and about 2 finger-lengths of ginger root and then fill the jar with honey.  You are supposed to let it set, stirring each day until the honey and citrus makes a jelly.  Take a spoon or two of the jelly, add boiling water, and you have a tea that will help you when you are sick with a cold or flu. It's wonderful!  You can also add some whiskey for an actual  Hot Toddy.  I finally figure that one out!  One of the recipients was so sick that he did not bother with making the tea, or even the Hot Toddy, and just ate it by the spoonful.  He reported that it helped a lot and wanted more in just a few days.  I found some pint jars on sale and it was a hit.

My list for hand made (by me) presents is growing for next year.  Next year I will be ready!!  I know I've said it before but this time I think it's really going to happen.  Between the candy, cookies, remedy's and easy little projects that even I can do, it's going to happen.  After this, our memories will be about time spent together, good food and drinks, and the time we spent, instead of who got what.  It's not a competition and whatever you get someone, the worth should rest in the fact that it's from you instead of what it is.  This checking boxes off of lists stuff has got to stop.  I have grown up, so much so that there is no longer any question.  What a relief.  I think the days of questioning myself are finally over, happily, and it feels really good to know where I stand.  So much of our youth is spent thinking we know what we think and then being slapped right upside the face with a complete and total opposite truth that we just hadn't lived long enough to learn yet.  Young people, this is how people can stand to get old.  It's like a soap opera, we have simply seen it all before.  It's pretty hard to scare us, if you want to know the truth.

I'm done with Christmas being more about presents than it is about Christ.  I'm done with people who say Happy Holidays.  You could say that on Veterans Day!  I'm done spending money I don't have for things people don't want, need, or like.  How much stuff do you need to have before you have "enough" anyway?  That is a question we should all ask ourselves, and if you still feel greedy after that, just think about how much you will have to "maintain" or "dust" this "stuff".   Is it so precious to you that little kids can't be in your house?  Isn't it going to get broken or be obsolete with a few years?  What is the point of that crap anyway? The days when your children are small pass quickly, however hard that may be for you to believe now.  They will remember the times together, messes, blow ups, and all, and they will remember it as the best times of their lives, regardless of the "stuff" they get.  Treasure the days when they like the box better than anything that could be inside, and make sure they hang onto that bit of wisdom that they are here to teach you.

The Empty Dollar Shop...

I recently went to one of my favorite places on earth only to find that it had closed.

I am in mourning and so came up with this as a memorial to that most wonderful of all places:

Ode To The Dollar Shop

Oh, Dollar Shop, I will miss you so.

We have been through so much, through the years.  There is no way I could have ever done it without you.  When I felt alone and overwhelmed, you scooped me up and set me down in a wonderful, quiet, warm place full of wonders the likes of which I never even knew existed, and I knew I was not alone.

All the stocking stuffers, you never let me down.  Every Christmas was full of wonderful stocking stuffers one simply could not find just "anywhere".  The incense burner inscribed with AC/DC that my oldest son actually liked, the little manicure sets and the Christmas cups.  My kids all got one every year.  You might think those would add up but don't worry.  They all chipped real easy and usually needed replaced every year.  Who cared?  Not me.  They were all $1.

All the pairs of sunglasses.  I wish I would have stocked up better.  I just never thought there would come a day when you weren't there.  The last time I spent over $1 on a pair of sunglasses was around 1997.  Same year the twins were born.  Your timing really was impeccable.

You were the first stop I always made when the kids got money for a gift.  You never disappointed them, either.  The shot glass that said One Tequila, Two Tequila, Three Tequila, FLOOR with the little red light that lit up on the bottom?  The knives?  The jewelry?  

Decades of gift bags of every size and for every occasion, all $1.  I want to weep, even though I still have a lot of them.

The music.......a blend of 70's soft rock and one hit wonders that made me laugh out loud and sing along on many occasions.  ..........Sometimes we made it a group event.  If you have never had an unplanned flash mob around the song Don't Pull Your Love Out On Me Baby by Hamilton, Joe, Frank & Reynolds, I mourn for you.  At least I will always have the memories, oh Dollar Shop.

The books.  THE BOOKS!!!!!  SOB!  Hard back good books!!  OK, some bad ones too, but that's how it goes, and you only wasted a dollar!!

The Christmas ornaments!!  The $1 teachers gifts!!!

The commercials!  "Can't decide whether to buy that item or not?  Don't forget it's a dollar.  Every item in this store is a dollar.  All the time."  They made my heart sing out and I laughed out loud as I threw whatever was in my hand into the cart! 

I never worried there!  

I also rarely spent even $20!

I don't know what I will do without you, Dollar Shop.  I don't even know if I know who I am now.

The bathrooms!  There was never a line!!

The underwear for teenage girls who only wanted thongs!  I simply cannot abide paying good money for bad underwear.  Not even underwear as I understand their true purpose......but that's another post.

The flowers for graves!  Twice a year at least and sometimes more often, depending on what you offered and one time.....those sparkly iridescent pom pom ball things on sticks?  Well, I don't really know what those were supposed to be for but my mother's grave has never been so blinged out before or since and now, I guess never will be again.  Oh!  The agony!  I'm pretty sure those things were the talk of the town for a while there.......

The dog collars!  Shadow kept me running over there on a regular basis until I got smart and took the collars off.  It would have never went on for so long without you, Dollar Shop.  Life just will not be the same without you.

The shampoos and conditioners and lotions that teenagers always "have" to have but are mainly made up water anyway?  So what's the diff?  Especially if it comes in the actual packaging?  For a DOLLAR, people......

It's going to take a while.  I don't know if I can do it.......say goodbye to you, Dollar Shop.  I know I will find another, but it won't be the same.  You were near me.  And now, you are not.  

You are empty.  Abandoned.  Utterly desolate and dark.  

I feel the same way.  

Oh, I will rally.  I will make the trip to find another one.  But not for a while.  Not for a good while.

I must go on, but I don't know if I will ever get over this.

RIP, Dollar Shop.  I only wish you had a grave I could visit.  If I did I would only with I could afford to buy you a little statue for your grave.  But that won't be happening now.  

You were a great store, and I loved you.

Being Home.....

There is no time sweeter to me than Christmas these days, simply because that's the only time all my kids are ever home at the same time anymore.  

I never thought much about it when they were all home and I felt like I was drowning in kids all those years, and the quiet is welcome, but every once in a while, this old house takes on the rhythmic routine of days gone by. It's like being able to go into the past, only everybody is older now.  There is none of the anxiety that hounded me for so long.  For decades I was stressed over things not being "good enough".  Now I find comfort in the fact that nothing can hurt this house.  We have seen it all, from bees in the walls to fountains of water pouring out of the wall in the shower. I am telling the truth when I say that it would take a doozy to throw us off now.  We have practically been through basic training with this house.   I like it much better this way.

 For the past few days I have:

     - spent the majority of time in my pajama's or an apron, or both.

     - met one or the other of my older "children" coming in at 4 am, and not been upset with them for missing a curfew.

     - visited with my pretend daughter and noticed that of all the people in the house, no one said a word or remarked in any way when my pretend grand baby serenaded us with her version of a song on the piano.  Not too loudly and not for too long.  I was so proud nobody told her to stop.  We are a mellow crew at my house, I am inordinately proud of this.

      - felt the boys trying to gauge how awake their sister is, trying to make the choice between sleeping a little later or getting in the shower before their sister, as there is a long wait for hot water after girlfriend gets done.

     - heard the voice inside my head ask "are you really listening to your brother and your son have a seemingly casual conversation about AR's, which I am pretty dang sure are assault rifles, and both of them sound pretty knowledgeable?" and answered the voice inside my head "Yes......yes, yes I am."  and then smiled.  We are a family who can protect ourselves and those we love or are prepared to die trying.  I am most definitely proud of that.

       - divided up left over ham while my sons bring a table into the house by way of taking off the back door, and then the weather stripping, until they achieved success and kept me from having to turn around and sell a great table and benches that I bought second hand.  Without measuring my doors or the top of the solid tabletop, just in case that was not self explanatory. ;)  I have raised men who rise to a challenge, not to mention perform miracles with nothing more than a pipe fitter's wrench, a tape measure, and 7 flat head screwdrivers of varying lengths.  What a relief.

      - watched while wringing my hands as my sons tried and failed to get the old table down the stairs, as the "new" table would not possibly fit down the basement stairs.  This did not deter them either.  We just switched out the sets and now I can do puzzles on the table in the basement while my youngest baby plays video games with his friends and asks me to "please do not be a part of this conversation, Mom".  Something tells me this could be a game changer.  The basement has been forsaken by me for several years, for reasons having to do with testosterone and dog hair.  No more.  Muahahahahahahahahahaha.

    - watched one of my mother's dearest friends see the Rock Star's tattoo, (which is his grandmother's name right over his heart), tear up, hug him and say "I am so proud of you", which is pretty much the same thing that I did when he showed me, and the LAST thing I ever could imagine saying when presented with any of my children's first tattoo............of which I had adamantly insisted there would never be any "as long as I live".........  I can eat crow like nobody's business, having had quite a lot of practice over the years.  I think I have learned that you just never know what a day will bring, but that it will probably be all right, whatever that is.  I needed that.

       - comforted and reassured my sister in law that it really wasn't a problem that my nephew left the door open and the dog ran in with big muddy paw prints all over the kitchen, because a) This happens all the time!  Really! and b) I bought a carpet cleaner for this exact reason!  You know those commercials where the kids make a terrible mess and the mom just smiles and says "that's OK" in a sing songy voice?  Well, I am now that mom.  It took 22 years and a Bissell but baby, I am finally there and I have to say, it feels good!  It really is OK!!

      **It should be said that if you want to be "that mom", (and you do!!  Trust me, you do!!)  you should be very careful not to replace your carpet or fix anything that happens to your walls for a couple of decades.  This process will erode the part of you that cares about your house looking "good".  This is crucial, not to mention freeing.    At the end of the 20 years, you will not give one single flying flip about another stain on the carpet, OR another hole in the wall, for that matter.  I didn't say it would be easy, I said it would be WORTH IT.  In other words, give up now, give up and relax and just enjoy those kids while they are still there.  The other stuff you can fix or remodel later, or not........ 

I hope you had a great Christmas and some down time to just "be home".  It isn't easy to accomplish in today's world.  You have to really make your priorities count.  And if you are one of those people who are still caught up in getting everything perfect?  Give it up, now, while there is still time.  If you can't drop everything and have a child, at least borrow one for a while, or get a dog.  There is still time to save yourself.  I have often said of children, "they save us".  They really do, not in ways you would recognize as "saving" at the time.  It's in the looking back that you see how the hardest  things were the best things, in the end, and marvel that you wouldn't trade them for anything.

It's nice to be reminded of that once in a while, even at 4 am.

To my kids, you did a really good job with me.  Thanks!  

    

Christmas Present......

 All those years I waited and waited for them to go to sleep so I could get started.

Now they fall asleep on the couch at 9:30 watching It's a Wonderful Life.......

I knew this day would come.

I always thought I would be happier about it......

Oh, well.  That's life!!

I will just treasure the moments I get to watch them sleep.

I find it just as mesmerizing as I did when they were babies.......

....and to all a good night!!

Little Altars Everywhere.....Pt3

A lot of the ornaments on my tree are actually the kids' now.  Every year I get them at least one, all alike if I can find them.

That says "Mom's Favorite!" under First Born, but don't worry........

Everybody got one.  The girl even had red hair!  I was thrilled.

The undisputed favorite of the kid's is Santa in his hammock.  They used to fight over who got to put it up but in later years have settled for quietly moving him around to their own personal preference, without saying anything about it.  It's become our version of Find Waldo.

It's not a very good picture but you get the idea.  He's on vacation and has probably been drinking Mai-Tai's, so this focus is representative of Santa's own!  He's watching All My Reindeer on his little TV on his tummy, so focus isn't so important.  It's always easy to catch up with soaps even if you are blind drunk.

This is one that the kids always make a point of looking for and locating also.  It's kind of out of focus also but Santa has lost his clothes.  It happens.  I hear stories.

As long as Santa's on vacation and "fuzzy", I guess it's understandable that he might find himself naked except for his hat?  lol

Here is one of the more ritzy ones I have gotten for the Beautiful Redhead.  A a child, the more bling the better.  She was always partial to crystals and I found this one when she was 4 or 5.  The red and white striped ball to the right is from Chuck and Chirpy's December wedding years ago, and this year they are expecting their first child!  You can hang a tree with enough memories to last a lifetime.  Every year it just gets a little bit better.

I admit it's getting a little crowded.  But very soon, the Rock Star is going to need his.  He just got a great job.  Annnnnnndddd he's 22.  Sob..........

One last shot.  This features several wooden ornaments,more "hand" painted ones and the one that says Merry Christmas I got from my co-workers at Walsworth when I left there.  Also on the right there is a train.  We have two of these.  They were gifts to the twins and if you pushed something on them they actually sounded like a train.  Because of the loudly irritating sounds these made, they were very popular with the twins when they were small.  They were just as unpopular with the rest of us for the exact same reason, and this was the biggest game of all for a couple of years, as the twins were a little defensive about it and would throw screaming fits if they could not locate their "choo-choo's".  I forget who we got them from but I highly suspect it was probably my brother, who took his long awaited revenge upon me by buying my children noisy toys for years.  Before he had children of his own and I was helpless to retaliate, not that I would ever be so cruel.  Even he drew the line at noisy toys, though.  I should take this opportunity to thank you, dear brother, for never gifting my children with pets.  

It took about 6 years for the "choo-choo" batteries to finally wear out.  No one in this house would ever dream of replacing them.  We have the memories of that sound and it is enough.  More than enough, until such time as we should have to suffer through it again with the grandchildren.

So ends my post about the "altar" of the Christmas tree.  

But I have other altars.  Everybody does.  They might not be called altars, but that's what they are.

Little Altars Everywhere....Pt. 2

I was the first grandchild on my mother's side.  For three years I ruled the kingdom and during this time I proclaimed my grandmother "Big Grandma".  This was not because my grandmother was big.  In fact, the first time I called her that I can remember how she laughed for a very long time and finally asked me why I called her that.  She didn't seem especially touched by it.  I had two grandma's that lived in her town, as I thought of it, her mother lived there also, my great-grandmother.  The only explanation that I had then, and the only one that I still have to this day, is that my grandmother  was taller than my great-grandmother, ergo, "Big" Grandma and "Little" Grandma.  Little Grandma didn't seem especially pleased by her name either, but it seemed completely obvious to me.  I, being naturally shorter than either of them by quite a distance, did not know that they were both actually very small women.  Be that as it may, they were both referred to by those names from that day forward.  Nobody argues with the first grandchild, I tell you.  Nobody.

Big Grandma always had a bird nest on her Christmas tree.  She said it was good luck for the next year.  I can remember her getting excited about finding small abandoned nests.  She sprayed the holy living crap out of them with Lysol and put them in trash bags, to "kill all the bugs", for weeks and then shellacked them.  Probably to seal in the bugs, just in case any survived.  Or laid eggs that could hatch.  She did not suffer dirt, she put on a whole uniform including a scarf over her hair and attacked it mercilessly. 

It's not a real one.  It was a gift from my mother, in memory of the one Big Grandma had, for my own house.   It's the oldest tradition I have.

Big Grandma was very crafty, even artistic.  She was always whipping up something or other and there wasn't much space between us, which is probably why one year I made my own ornaments as gifts.  The Santa below is another of the cute wooden ones that move around, but to the left of it and below with the pink and blue swirl is one.  You simply buy an empty ornament and whole bunch of paint, pour it in, swirl it around, and waa-laa!  Beautiful ornaments that will last as long as you don't break them, but hey, that will just be the year you broke the pink and blue ornament that you made when the twins were small, and waa-laa!  There's a memory.  That's the way it is with Christmas ornaments that you know.  They never leave you.  This cannot happen with new ornaments.  Unless it's the only new ornament, in which case it will probably be special, in which case you could make a memory if you broke it.  But only if you cared about it. 

You can swirl any colors you want, in case you have a different "theme" going, or want to match your furniture or something.   However, if you make these please give them as gifts.  They will be treasured forever.  Unless they are sold at a garage sale.  

Another good use for the empty ornament is to put cute stuff inside.  Pictures, confetti, in this case golf tee's.... these are unique and one of a kind gifts, inexpensive to make, depending of course on what you put in them.

One of the Beautiful Redhead's, from her golf coach in high school and safe from garage sales forever and ever, amen.

If you knit, and I am ashamed that I don't, this is an excellent choice.  In fact, so ignorant am I that I do not even know for sure whether this is knitted or crocheted.  Probably crocheted.  Isn't that the one with all the holes?   Whatever it is, we should all learn to do it and I am pretty sure my Nana is rolling over in her grave right now because I would never learn this most basic skill when she tried to teach me.  I regret it.  It can't be that hard and I need to get that started.  It's been on my list for decades.  This one was given to me by a friend I worked with named Janet Turner in 1993.  I have put it on my tree every year since and I always stop and think of her.  I always thought I would do that for the kids every year, if I could......do that stuff, but I've not gotten around to it.  My babies are 14.  I need to get started soon.

They say no two are alike.  That is just one added plus if you are nervous about making mistakes in knitting. Or crocheting.  Maybe by next year I can inform you further on these mysteries.

Little Altars Everywhere...Pt.1

Tonight I drug out the Christmas tree and got it up.  There are even presents wrapped under it.  After having been so efficient and on my feet so long I grabbed the camera and thought BLOG THIS!!

The Christmas tree in my life has never mattered.  I have had real trees and hated them, the trying to get them even, the watering, the needles dropping out, the getting rid of it.  I have had fake trees and hated them, putting them up and bending all those branches, the backache, the falling over the whole entire tree because it is never solid at the base.  In fact, in recent years I have been thinking of buying a fake fireplace just so I can throw up a garland, decorate it and call it good!

None of this matters a whit because the tree is merely the backdrop for the ornaments.  Christmas trees are altars, of a kind.  I have altars everywhere in my house.  You probably do, too.  The ornaments are one of the major things that makes it feel like Christmas for me.  I often received them as gifts growing up, and especially after I left home and had my own home.  I often give my children ornaments as gifts, and when they have their own homes they will already have a starter set of ornaments that have been with them their whole, entire lives.

This is the whole thing.  Notice the way the tree leans to the right.  

Christmas ornaments are tangible memories. Myriad memories of when you got them, times you have put them up, other ornaments this one reminds you of that got broken, and when, and by whom, and if mom cried when it happened.  There is the little ceremony of unveiling them.  Many of them you have seen just once a year, for a few weeks, since you were very small, and just a kernel of what you have become.  That kernel is still there, and you have put that snowflake on the tree as a child, the first Christmas after your Grandma died, the year you were home from college, and the first year you ever put it on your own tree. 

I got this ornament from my mother the first year I had my own tree.  Many of my ornaments are from her and my aunt Linda.  They favored wooden ornaments, often with moving parts.  Just as often Hallmark as Dime Store, back when we still had Dime Stores.  Should that be capitalized?  I'm tired.  These high energy days are about to kill me.

How you felt as sad as you did happy that year and how strange it was that you would be sad.  Telling yourself that it was just sentimentality when really in your heart you knew you were just mourning your old life because whatever happened from here on, and no matter how wonderful it would be, it would never be the same as it always had been before.  Some changes are irrevocable.  That's just life, but you should always take note and honor these changes.  They are the tapestry of your life.  (Why yes, Ms. King joined me this evening in taking measure of this year, as I performed the rituals that sustain us all from cradle to grave.  wink wink)

My first child's First Christmas ornament.  He got about 12, as he was born Dec. 1, and the other kids have always been jealous.  They say he gets everything.  I say it is not my fault.  But this is the first one I actually opened.  Is it not amazing that I remember that when I can't figure out whether to capitalize Dime Store or not?  You simply cannot get this kind of stuff with new ornaments every year.  

I met people at college whose families bought different ornaments every year.  They had, like, "themes".  Different ones every year unless they really liked them.  These people lived in a city, and I felt very sorry for them.  I asked what they did with the old ornaments and they said they sold them at garage sales.  I made a mental note to check out their garage sales, but I am still astounded to this day by this concept.  It doesn't sound like Christmas to me. Themes are not for Christmas.  Rather, Christmas IS the theme.  Nothing new here, same old story, same old ornaments.  At least, at my house this is how it is.  How it has always been.

Isn't he cute?  He made me cry,but in a good way, as did this post until I added the captions.  I figure this is a new "theme" for blogs.  Read the italics and laugh, read the straight print and cry, and by then you've had a full day.  If you are going through menopause you can probably go out into the world without embarrassing yourself, as now your emotional roller coaster for the day is complete.  Onward Ho!  Stride forward with confidence that you at least will not start bawling in public.  Probably.

For instance, the ornament above was given to me by my friend Louise, when I lived next to her.  I turned it over and thought of her and she was close to me as if she was standing right next to me.  I thought of those days when we were just one house away and all our children were still home.  Everything has changed so much!  Almost all our kids are grown and she already has grandchildren and mine are yet to come, but I know they are coming and I think of them already, especially when I hold these ornaments.  

She made these by hand and they still smell like gingerbread.  I'm pretty sure at least one of the twins tried to eat them that year. They are not toxic. ;) We ended up putting the Christmas tree inside a playpen, and I moved all the ornaments up for a couple of years even after that.  It made for some strange looking trees, but all the ornaments were close to eye level.