My birthday is on December 31st. New Year’s Eve has always been a fun day for me. This year, I’ll be 73, and I’ll take it, though I don’t know where all the years have gone.

This year ended on a sad note. Our precious little dog Rylie passed away. It was a freak and unexpected thing. He swallowed a jagged rock that lodged in his intestine. The vet performed emergency surgery to remove it. Everything was going fine until, on the 3rd day, he started going downhill. It was on a Sunday, and the vet was nice enough to meet us at his clinic. He died within a few hours. We still don’t know what happened for sure. The vet thinks Rylie’s intestines quit working as a result of the surgery. Needless to say, our hearts were broken. He was only 5 yrs old.

We couldn’t stand not having a dog, so last week we made a trip to the SPCA and the Humane Society and came home with 2 dogs. One was not potty trained, so it’s been a busy week. It was hard at first but we’ve made some headway. We’ve had 2 days without an accident. We’re on day #3.

The dogs get along and love to run around the backyard and play with each other. Our hearts are filling up again though we’re still feeling the pain of the loss of Rylie. He was such a special little guy.

When we were at the Humane Society, Kip spotted a sign for sale that read, “When God closes one door, he opens another.” That touched our hearts, and when Kip told them our story, they gave it to us.

So, we’ve lost 2 dogs this year and now we’re trying to make a good home for 2 more. That pretty much sums it up

GRANDMA DRIVES A PORSCHE BY Valerie Halla

When I flew into LAX this past weekend, I waited outside on the busy sidewalk in a pre-holiday rush of cars, trucks, buses, vans and people for my son to pick me up. I had some time to kill so I did serious “people watching” observing whatever caught my interest. Many good looking young folks held up signs high above their heads looking at many vehicles go by. All at once a limousine or big black van would pull out from the stream of traffic and pull up to people with the signs, popping the trunk and setting their luggage in the back, then they’d get inside and go off with the chauffeur.

One such example caught my eye off to my left. A brand new, sleek, prominently purple, modern Porsche sedan pulled over with a thin, grey haired older sporty-type woman jumping out. She “jumped out” in the slimmest use of the word. She was also slim, but she didn’t jump. She smiled broadly at the four people on the sidewalk and the youngest one ran over to hug the older lady while the only man there wrangled many pieces of luggage and backpacks into the shiny car trunk. All of them smiled big loving broad smiles. The women all got into the car as the man finished struggling and he got into the snazzy car sitting in the shotgun spot. He looked like he felt good to be occupying shotgun position even though he was puffing mildly. The veteran lady driver’s face beamed with delight as she maneuvered the slick car out into heavy traffic. This was LA traffic which has a life of its own and is crazier than any country lane by a thousand times.

They were all clearly happy to be riding with this queenly older Porsche gal, in a $150,000 automobile being carted off to what I imagined to be her mansion in the Malibu neighborhood or possibly Brentwood or amongst the Beverly Hills mansions, probably at some location a gazillion miles away from where I live and where I drive my 2010 Camry with 223,000 miles on it.

It was a beautiful quick weekend visit with my son. I was visiting him because he had to work over Christmas and I wanted to bring his gifts. That weekend was his only time off. It purpose was pure fun.

We crammed a lot into two days. We went out to a Korean Market for snacks and some refreshments before heading to a Hot Pot Holiday dinner put on by my son’s friends. We decided at the last minute or maybe in a New York minute to stop at a cozy coffee shop for hot chocolate since we had time to spare. There’s always time for hot chocolate! It was a place called The Loft and it looked like some movie set as we walked in. The place had long, heavy, deeply dark colored drapes covering the big windows and three huge mirrors hung along one wall vertically, distinctly hanging out from the wall at the tops. There were a few dark corners with small tables placed here and there- some here by the window, some over there underneath the mirrors. It felt like a horror film’s main room, a dark cavernous living room that hid many stories. We sat upstairs in the loft.

We ordered two hot cocoas and headed up the stairs to the equally dark and mysterious loft.

Next we headed to a tiny apartment to visit my son’s friends for a Hot Pot Dinner treat.

Those 70ish girls… Our magical Sanderson Christmas Eve

https://maryfrancismcninch.com/2022/12/16/those-70ish-girls-is-it-okay-for-santa-to-bring-used-stuff/

CAN I PLEASE JUST COMPLAIN? By Valerie Halla

Call me old fashioned and sentimental. Call me late for dinner. Call me overly celebratory, but I recently bought fancy boxed cards, lots of them.

Getting in the spirit of the holidays. I’m starting to write Christmas Cards. I like to write a small message in each of the 50 plus cards I send out. This year I bought some lovely expensive cards. I wrote, addressed and stamped them and licked the flap on the back of the crisp new white envelope. The envelope would not, no matter how I tried, stick closed. I got mad. I complained loudly even though no one heard me. I’m pretty practiced at complaining. You could probably compliment me on my complaining skills. I wouldn’t complain.

Then I discovered that these classy high priced cards had thin white strips of sticky tape on the flaps of envelopes that you peeled off, then the envelope could be sealed. I felt a bit embarrassed but glad I figured it out after licking a few envelopes unsuccessfully. I licked and slurped a few of the tapes before seeing them. They were actually white tapes on white background so the camouflage concept worked.

Speaking of this whole Christmas card preparation thing, I used my list of people from two years ago and also last year to make sure I got everyone. I studied the names on the old lists as I settled down to working.

Then a few shocks struck me hard. I felt like I’d been hit in the heart and guts simultaneously as I studied the old lists. Could this be true?

From my old Christmas lists of 2022 and 2023 I read our nephew and his wife’s names. Sadly, tragically, he had taken his own life last year. Then I read my good friends’ and family members’ names who I had known for over 30 years. The kind husband, who I’d taught with for many years, had lost his wife last year after her 12 year battle with cancer ended. We group of teacher friends knew her for decades.

Another good friend on my list died this last August. She had been brought from Nazi Germany by her grandmother after going through pure hell during the war including losing her baby brother. She became a teachers aide at my school and helped scores of teachers and students for decades. She also volunteered at the school after retiring, to help kids learn and progress. She was a bright light in our lives and in her family.

It’s an odd feeling looking over lists of people whom you have known for years and been sending cards to for decades. You take them for granted. You want to send them a Christmas note like you always have except they no longer will receive your card, will no longer enjoy the quick note you wrote bringing them up to date on your life, because they no longer live. They just live in your memory and in your heart.

I’m glad to be writing cards. No use in complaining because when I’m gone, I won’t be on anyone’s list even Santa’s. Have a lovely holiday! I know I will be thankful beyond words. I’d better get back to work writing words and spreading good cheer, because complaining doesn’t help. Does it?

https://maryfrancismcninch.com/2024/04/26/those-70ish-girls-12/

https://maryfrancismcninch.com/2021/06/06/murdo-girl-any-given-day/

https://maryfrancismcninch.com/2023/11/15/those-70is-girls-thanksgiving/

https://maryfrancismcninch.com/2020/01/10/murdo-girl-kitty-reynolds/

PHANTOM AT THE WINDOW BY Valerie Halla

Standing at my kitchen sink, facing the green house window, rinsing off dishes, and I see a flash of yellow and a blurry figure barely peeking up from the bottom edge of the window below eye level. My eyes blink, my arms stop working and my shoulders jerked slightly. Was it a human sneaking up spying on me?

I stopped rinsing off the dishes and strained my neck looking out over the tiled shelf of the greenhouse window stretching up and onto my toes, but I couldn’t see anything. Maybe it’s just my imagination, maybe I shouldn’t have eaten those beans, or maybe I am overly tired. I laughed a bit under my breath thinking how silly I was to think a human was outside my window looking up at me from beneath the window.

I kept rinsing dishes there, while cautiously looking down at the base of the window. Now when I go to the kitchen sink to do anything, I look out. A few days later the flashing phantom popped up again. I ran to another window to look outside and down the side of the house. I couldn’t see anything.

Now I am scared to even water my plants which sit on a shelf in the greenhouse window.

Hey, I got some help, some confirmation, a tiny bit of support when our oldest son came for a few days to visit. He was washing his hands at the kitchen sink as I watched and chatted with him. All at once he took a half step back and said, “Whoa, there’s uh… something moving out there!”

“So you saw it? I’ve been there at the sink working and was seeing a flash once or twice that scared me also. Weirdly scary,” I said.

“I’m thinking it’s that bush under the window, and it’s windy so the leaves which are turning yellow flash up a bit into sight for a few seconds when the sun hits them. But it makes my heart stop and fight or flight takes over, Mom. We both saw it and had the same reaction. What a trip!”

Phew. Puzzle solved. It’s strange but even though the question of the phantom has been solved, it’s still spooky and interesting.

Part two- No, it’s not solved.

As I was outside pruning and putzing around the yard, I looked under the kitchen greenhouse window. The bush my son and I had mistakenly thought was the phantom plant brushing briefly up against the window and scaring us, was no where near the window edge. Here is proof that the phantom was not a light colored bush…

The mystery isn’t solved, I concluded, as I gathered more evidence outside my house. Now I’m not sure what to do. I think I need more expert knowledge and experience. I’m going to take a chance. I’m going all in. I’m going to call in Baba Wawa, an expert phantom detective. We will see what she can do to solve this mystery. She can’t make things worse, can she?