Christmas Traditions

When I was a little kid we always celebrated Christmas on Christmas eve. That was when the Christ child came and brought us our presents. Then we would go to midnight mass to say thank you and sing carols. It was a really happy time.

Later I married and we changed our traditions. We opened our gifts with mom and dad on Christmas Eve, then we went to my inlaws for Christmas to open more presents. My first motherinlaw didn't like me at all. She would spend five or six hundred dollars on her son and she would buy me a pull over from the department store where I worked so that I would know it was marked down to $12.95. It always made me sad. When I separated from my first husband that year she bought me opal earrings and an opal necklace. I always thought it was a thank you for leaving my son gift. lol

Later I found Charles and my Christmas traditions changed again. We had no money whatsoever. I decided I didn't want a tree or any Christmas crap around. He said no we are starting a new tradition and we have to have a tree. He drove us to a tree farm and we found the saddest lumpiest, most wonderful tree ever. It cost $2. hahahaha. It had branches sticking out all over and no branches at all in some spots where there sure as heck should have been some. Oh it was a joy to behold. Charles' first wife had been a Christmas Nazi and the ornaments had to be placed just so. He picked up an ornament and asked me where I should hang it. I suggested he put it on the tree. He stared at the tree and carefully hung the ornament and he just looked at it for a while. Then he looked at me but by then I was busy hanging stuff on the plants. He smiled, laughed, picked up stuff and soon the whole place had ornaments every where, on plants and trees and pictures. Joy!

Soon we had three little boys running around. Once again we changed tradition. The new tradition became staying home on Christmas day. It seemed so hard to visit this person and that person with three little ones in tow, and the kids hating opening all of these great new toys and then having to leave them behind to go visiting. We stayed home and played with our presents all day. All day just us. That was a nice tradition.

As years went by I found it so uncomfortable seeing my family once a year at Christmas, buying gifts for complete strangers. After a while I stopped this. The Gale family has welcomed me in and they are a joyfully crazy bunch of people. One more wonderful than the next. My new tradition became being with my new family. As painful as it was to leave my family behind, I soon found out what it was to be loved by new brothers and sisters. Gales and Airds and Rosses, oh my. I had never known this joy. I'm sure my own family loves me, and I do love them, but oh my new home made family is a hoot. Christmas day at Brian's is the best day ever!

The boys grew into men. The world pulls them in many directions. One year it became evident that one of them couldn't come home for Christmas. Time for a new tradition. Fakemas was born. After all, what is more important, having Christmas on December 25th, or having all of my boys and their adorable girls friends all together? Some years Fakemas is a couple of weeks before the 25th, and some years it's after, but we try hard to find a family get together day.

Some day our traditions will change again. Some day there'll be grand kids and the boys will change the traditions according to what works for their own families. Someday Charles and I will be too old to travel and someone will have to take us to the celebration, or come here and do all of the work for us. Hard to say. I don't know how it will change, but it will. It doesn't really matter to me how the traditions change as long as I can have my family around, those that I have married, those that I have birthed, and those that I have adopted and have adopted me.

I love you guys.
Merry Christmas

secret keeper

The secrets I keep are my own. Smiles that hide the pain. Lies that hide the truth. Good days followed by bad days followed by bad days that look like good days. I love the people around me, Charles, kids, friends. I love where I am. I love God. I love my pets. I love to quilt and paint and create. It's me I could live without. Sometimes I feel like this great and wonderful person trapped in a shitty body that slows me down.

That's the tip of my secret keeping ice burg. if you have read this then you must also keep my secrets.

Dreams…..

Sometimes I long to go back to that place where I haven’t really been before. I often go there in my dreams. There’s a house there. Sometimes it’s tiny, similar to the one on Rekaneni’s farm. Sometimes it huge, rambling, expansive. It is, however, always haunted.

We stand outside of the servant’s entrance as our friends arrive. Ellen and Dave get out of their car just as Steve and Katie pull up. As I turned to greet them I notice a twinkle from above and look up. I could have sworn that there above the stone carved fascia, a third floor hovered just for a second. Foolishness!

We go in through the back and enter into a hallway that leads into the kitchen. It has huge areas for preparing, cooking, roasting, stirring. A large butcher block table stands in the middle of the room, two hundred years of chopping having left tiny, bowl shaped groves here and there. Off to the right is a small windowless room, just large enough for a bed. This is where the cook lived when this grand old house had servants to care for it.

From the back of the kitchen a narrow corridor runs the length of the house. It has cupboards along its length housing the fine china, and sinks for washing and cleaning. The corridor allowed servants to travel unseen while clearing the dining room or attending to their masters any where in the house.

I notice a door at the left of the kitchen. Servant’s stairs to the second floor no doubt. Eagerly we race up the stairs to explore the living quarters. As we tumble up to the top we bump against a wall across from the door. It moves. At first we think we have broken something, but then we realize that this board is a newer addition and that there is yet another set of stairs behind. We pull off the barrier and head upwards through years of cobwebs, leaving our foot steps in the dust.

We step out into what must have been an exquisite ball room. It is still decorated for a grand Christmas party. There is a long dead, once beautifully decorated tree in the middle of the room. The room itself is almost completely made of glass. Large swags of pine boughs stretch from window pane to window pane, encircling the room. As I reach out to touch one of the beautiful red bows that adorn the boughs I can hear a tinkle as a few needles drop to the ground.

Oh what a party it must have been! What a sight! I can almost envision the grandeur of the evening. I can hear a majestic waltz playing in my mind. A handsome young man in tie and tails offers me his hand and bows. I extend my gloved hand and shyly curtsy. We begin to dance around the room. Slowly at first, but as the music rises in intensity we begin to whirl around the dance floor. I can see the orchestra now, in their formal attire. I can feel my gown swing to and fro, fine Italian lace swishing across satin. I wonder at the Christmas tree, all aglow with candles and hand blown ornaments. I can smell the mouth watering treats as we swirl past the buffet table. People, one more beautifully arrayed then the next, clink glasses, toasting their good fortune. Smiling at me. Smiling at me. Smiling at me.

Smiling at me….I begin to get a little uncomfortable. Why won’t they stop smiling at me? Is there a bit of malaise in there eyes? Just then I hear grandfather’s clock far off in the distance as it begins to strike twelve. Smiles frozen on long dead faces. Forgotten glasses in half raised arms. Starring at me! All at once I realize that I have to leave. I have to be gone before the clock strikes midnight or I would be stuck at this hellish ball forever. I untangle myself from my partners arms. He glares at me in anger. I make a mad dash for the stairs. Angry eyes following my every step. Flying down the steps two and three at a time. Tripping, stumbling, the music growing ever fainter. I continue out through the kitchen and stumble out the back door trying to catch my breath, bent over, terrified.

Next to me Charles, Steve and Ellen stand, also bent over, also gasping. We look at each other afraid to ask the question. I look at Charles and out of the corner of my eye I see a twinkle. A third floor? Foolishness!

Today's topic....Quilts in your lives

HA! I figure since I'm the first person to blog today on Blog Tuesday Day, I get to pick the topic. I had the busiest day yesterday. It was my third Monday of the month guild of which I am president. I finished basting a quilt. I made binding and finished binding a quilt, and I finished my block of the month. Nice to see that I didn't leave anything to the last minute, eh?

It was also my night to bring treats to the meeting, so I made Toblerone Shortbread cookies. They were really good. Everyone really liked them. Elaine the snack coordinator asked me if I could remember the recipe by heart. We were standing next to the snack table and I said I thought I could. She pointed to the orange, current cookies next to mine and said they were amazing. I said oh I made the Toblerone Shortbread beside the orange cookies. Oh she said in a kinda disappointed voice. Well I guess you don't really want the recipe then eh? I said jokingly. She made this mumbly noise and backed away slowly, turned and ran. hahahahaha

Yup those were some fine cookies!

Bob says Tuesday are bloggy days

Today is Tuesday and or Friday Nov 12th. We have to take the dog to the vet today. Unfortunately when we are done there the vet insists that we take him home. Some how he hasn't had his shots since 2006. Oooops.

This week's topic is food so....I was working late on the church books and the rev fed me supper. then yesterday PC took me to momma's and we both had there special of the day and we both got rice pudding and he doesn't like it so I got his and mine. Best day ever. The while we were at momma's I forgot we weren't home and I put my head back and let out a huge burrrrppp. It just resounded in the place. People stared and PC laughed. I can't even go out in public anymore! I blame you boys!!!!!!

Girl brought Dan some nuttella. I love that stuff. I love it when she brings Dan treats. She's gotten smarter though cause now she brings him a large jar so that he can actually get some too.

I am apparently way behind in birthday cakes. Chuck and Dan haven't had one and possibly also Bob. But in my defense I'd like to say that in all cases I've bought the ingredients.

Monday I have to take treats to quilting. I'm making Deane's famous toblerone shortbread cookies. I've told PC to buy the toblerone and hide it and not let me have it till Monday when I bake no matter how hard I squeeze his....ummm...well I just told him don't let me have the chocolate till baking time.

I don't feel like making suppers anymore, so we usually end up with unhealthy last minute things. I'm not sure how to get motivated again. It's a vicious cycle really cause the crappier meals I make the worse I feel and then I don't feel like making good things.

Well Bob....food was a good topic. What is next Tuesday's topic I wonder, and by the way Bob....send me your phone number duffus. As if I have to email you to get you phone number???? I'm your mom!!! Don't make me bake a pie at you!!!

Best Birthday gift ever!!!!!

Judy took me out to lunch today and gave me my birthday present a little early. While we waited for our food to arrive, she handed me a lovely wrapped box with a tiny fuchsia bow on it. I openned it up and peered inside........ nothing......there was nothing inside. Judy asked me why I had a funny look on my face and I showed her the empty box. Then she laughed till she cried. Apparently she had 2 boxes that were the same and she put the one with the gift back in the drawer, and wrapped the empty one. Hahahahaha I got an empty box from Judy, and a great story. Best gift ever!!!!

Now we get to go out to lunch again next week so I can get another present. YAY!!!

Hmmmm

I had something odd happen to me Monday night.

I was at my evening guild meeting. As president, I brought the meeting to order using my new bike horn. OO aa oo aaaa. I introduced people, reminded people of things and such. I reminded them to bring slippers in a bag when the snow starts. I pulled out my giant bear foot shaped slippers and they laughed. I asked them why were these my quilting slippers. Because they're bear paws someone answered correctly and they laughed. I told them that these slippers were just so darned comfortable that when I wore them it felt like I was wearing bare feet and they laughed. Man I was so "on". I had a great time and everyone else did too. Many thanked me after the meeting. Everyone wanted to talk with me during break and after. It was really great.

When almost everyone was gone, one lady came up to talk to me. She looked into my eyes, thanked me and hugged me. She quietly thanked me again and smiled the saddest smile you ever saw. Her sad eyes were teary and had just a touch of a smile in them. I had moved her in some manner. Something I did meant something to her. I could tell. We didn't really speak. She just left after that. I watched her turn and walk away, but her eyes stayed with me.

When I got home I told Charles about it. That lady and I had somehow shared something and I had no idea what. She was going through something and somehow I had helped her in some way, and somehow this was bothering me. I realized that I have an effect on people, somehow. I know that we all do, of course but, I seem to really move people in some way. Charles told me that yes of course I do. He said that he's noticed it for years. It is my great gift and with it comes great responsibility.

Hmmmm

A Hairy Lent?

As you may have read I had decided to stop shaving my legs this winter. When Lent came along and everyone was giving up this and giving up that I jokingly said that I was giving up shaving my legs for Lent.  Well the weather forecast for the next three days is 20, 26, and 27! I might have to find my shorts, except that, I have an impressive crop of hair on my legs. I mean I couldn’t believe just how hairy legs can get, and we aren’t even gonna mention my pits!

So you see my dilemma. I said I wasn’t shaving my legs for lent because I knew it wouldn’t effect me in any way, and it amused me to tell people. Now it seems that it will indeed effect me.

Options are…

1. Shave cause I was only kidding?

2.Wear long pants and be hot?

3. Wear short and hairily praise God?

Why do these things always happen to me?

So we were moving Kat from Belleville to Ottawa. Charles and I are in the truck pulling a trailer and Chuck and Dan are in the toy behind us, and Kat behind them in her car. They were about ten minutes behind us on highway 7. All of a sudden I saw a cop at the side of the road, so I texted Chuck to tell him. I text “cop”

He says “What? Who is this?”

I smirk but type “mom”

He says “Do you know who you’re talking to?”

I roll my eyes, oh those crazy boys, I laugh, but sure I’ll bite.”Ok Who are you?”

He says “I am Mustafa”

Hahahahaha Charles and I laugh. Man you can’t put two Gale boys in the same vehicle for an hour without them being stupid, and they spelled Mufasa wrong. Tools

I say”I hope you get a ticket”

He says “WHO IS THIS F***”

Well, I think, that’s a bit rude. Charles says “Do you have the right number?” “Of course says I. I pushed the button that says Chas.”

Hmmmm I check the Chas button and it’s his old phone number!! Turns out that Virgin reassigns old phone numbers. Somewhere there’s a guy named Mustafa who has declared a fatwa on “mom”

A winter of hairiness

All spring and summer I dutifully scrape the hair off of my legs. Then every year, in the fall, I get bored with the whole shaving my legs process. So this year I wondered what would happen if I just stopped shaving for the whole winter.

First thing is the itch. The legs get itchy as the hair starts to get a bit longer. Then the itch stops as the the hair gets really long, but every time I saw my legs I was surprised cause that much hair in an unexpected place is shocking.

But now they are getting itchy again. I keep thinking I should really shave them cause they are grossing me out, but I am a woman of deep commitment who is determined to not shave her legs for the whole winter! I am making a hairy statement! However, when I have a hot flash I think I’d be cooler if I shaved them. But still…

Picture this

We went to Pembroke this past weekend. While we were there Gramma and I started looking at old pictures. Oh man, what fun. I borrowed an old album from when the Gale kids were little. I brought it home and scanned the pictures into the computer so that I could enjoy them forever. Pictures of Grampa and Orville and Wally, group shots of the whole family, kids in front of a Christmas tree, a  striking shot of Gramma at 15 years old, hair blowing in the breeze, another one of her in a lovely purple pants suit with her hair all seventied up. Too much fun. Great, great pictures.

There is group shot where Charles doesn’t have his glasses on. You may not know this cause he always has his glasses on but but Charles has the most stunning eyes. They are strikingly beautiful. Amazing. There is one picture with Charles and Brian and Deb, cause there were only three then, and they look almost exactly the same as Charlie and Bobby at that age. Such fun.

It was fun sitting there looking back into the past. And I noticed that the photo album smelled like Gramma’s house. You know that warm, comforting smell that feels like a Gramma hug? I guess that and all the pictures made me spend the night in the seventies. Drama. Intrigue. Starsky and Hutch dreams. It was a fun sleep. Book ‘em Dano!

Here I sit broken hearted, paid a dime and only farted

Here I sit, sigh, trying to decide what to do. just before Christmas i had to wean off of my meds to go on to another type, but as i got off of them I felt just fine. So PC and I decided to stay off of the new meds and just take it one day at a time. I’ve been fine for a very long time, but….well…PC said this morning that maybe it’s time to start the new ones.

I just don’t know, though. I’ve been sick for three weeks with a cold. I’ve broken a tooth and had to have it repaired, had a horrible panic attack in the dental chair which still makes me tear up as I write, and I’m totally behind in everything I have to do. Maybe it’s just life making me crazy and sad. How will I ever know the difference? I hate this so much. What do the sane people do?

Oh well, maybe I’ll just wait  through the weekend and see. I don’t wanna do drugs anymore. I just don’t.