Those 70ish Girls

 

I’ve been feeling nostalgic recently. I think because I am working on a Christmas project that I hope turns out like I want it to. It involves going through a lot of old photographs, and the whole thing is taking up a lot of my time. I get so into it that before I know it, the day is history. Meanwhile, I’m behind on everything else. Christmas is going to get here whether I’m ready or not. Oh, to be young and stupid again. I’m talking about myself back in the days when I didn’t worry like I do now. (It was back before we called worry.. stress.) I don’t think I’ve told you about my first Christmas as a married 18 year old. If I did, I don’t remember it so you shouldn’t either.

I got married in October and decided to have my husband’s side of the family plus Grandpa Sanderson for Christmas dinner at my house in Draper. Keep in mind, 2 months before then I called my Mom and asked her how to get everything cooked at the same time. I was making pork chops, mashed potatoes and canned corn for supper. She sort of walked me through it over the phone.

When I was growing up, I never so much as warmed up a can of soup. Both of my parents were good cooks. When Mom and Gus got married, he learned how to cook too. Why mess with what’s working right? I wasn’t all that lazy. It just never occurred to me to learn how to make my own meal.

(I have to take some of that back, or you’ll catch me lying. My cousin Mark and I made chocolate chip cookies after school sometimes, so I knew how to make really good chocolate chip cookies.)

I was undaunted by the challenge of making turkey with all the fixings. I found some recipes and bought everything I thought I needed at the grocery store. Christmas Eve was at Aunt Elna and Uncle Jerry Miller’s house that year. I was having a great time and was in no hurry to leave. That’s before I told Aunt Irma that I was having around 10 people for Christmas dinner the next day. She asked me what I had put in my stuffing. I told her nothing yet, but I planned to make it with celery, onion, butter, bread crumbs, and seasoning. Just like the recipe said.

 

 Aunt Irma and Harold Thune were Grand Marshalls of the Reunion parade last July. The second photo is of Aunt Irma and Uncle Jeff Sanderson

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“You haven’t started cooking yet?” she exclaimed!

“Christmas isn’t until tomorrow and everything sounds pretty easy to make. I do have the turkey thawing in the refrigerator,” I added.

“Mary,” She said. “It takes a long time to make turkey dressing. You have to dice up all of the celery and onion, then you have to cook it for awhile in butter and some stock. I hope you have torn up all the bread and it’s drying out! What else are you having?” She seemed kind of worried, and slightly amused by my predicament.

It was about that time, I decided we had better go home. When I got there, I did just as Aunt Irma “suggested.” I cut up two cups of celery and chopped up some onion. My hands were cramping by this time. Then I melted butter. I didn’t even know what vegetable or any other kind of stock was, so I cooked the celery and onion in the butter. It took a long time to get tender. I knew enough not to boil it, so I put it on low and went into the living room to watch a little television. I woke up to the smell of burning celery, onion, and butter.

Well, I was bound and determined to make a good turkey dinner, so I started all over again. I have no idea why I had purchased so much celery and onion, but luck was on my side. I stayed awake this time, and made what turned out to be some pretty good stuffing. Then I looked at the ingredients for the raspberry jello salad that Mom always made. I noticed the recipe said you mixed up sour cream and marshmallows and let them sit out all night. The next day, you beat it up until it’s smooth and put it on the jello/raspberry mixture that was supposed to be set in the refrigerator. I learned from the jello box what set meant. It meant I had to put the jello part together the night before. The night had already turned into Christmas day, but I made the jello too before calling it a night.

I should mention that Mom and Gus were in California for Christmas that year. She never would have left me in the lurch. The next day I made potatoes and gravy and some kind of vegetable. Other family members brought pies and sweet potatoes. It all tasted good to me.

I guess I’ve always been a last minute lulu. I work well under pressure. I don’t remember if I ever thanked Aunt Irma for saving the day. Like I said. Christmas gets here whether we are ready or not. It isn’t something you can put off for a day or two.

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I was going to make some Christmas cookies this afternoon, but I think I’ll have time to do that in the morning. All I have to do is wrap and mail gifts, most of which I haven’t purchased yet.

I wonder how late the stores are open tonight.

This is my crown hat that my friend Pat made for me. I love it. I wanted to see all sides. With and without glasses!

 

 

I ran across this post written after a Christmas gathering at our friends Pat and Jerry’s house back in 2016.. I wanted you to see all of the pictures of their beautiful home. It’s sure to put you in the Christmas Spirit.
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There is also a story…of course.

If I could wish for a gift of talent, I would like to be a singer. I love to sing, but I have no voice. I was in girls chorus and mixed chorus all four years of high school. I even got to sing in a couple of ensembles. I can only speculate all these years later, that Mr. Palmer must have needed someone who wanted to be a singer, to sort of stand there and sing softly. He probably needed someone to fill in at times when he only had 5 and needed 6.

He had to have known I couldn’t sing a lick. Fortunately, I knew enough not to sing bad  loudly.

When I own the fact that I can’t sing, people must sense that it pains me not to be able to raise my voice in song, because someone will always say, “Oh Mary, I bet you have a lovely voice.” The truth is my less than melodic voice has been tested and others have confirmed what I already knew.

You can always count on a 4 yr. old to tell you the truth..even if he’s your own child. My youngest did not like me to sing. I couldn’t even sing along with the radio in the car without making him cry. I didn’t purposefully try to hurt his ears, but sometimes I forgot myself and started to hum a tune or sing some song that had been going through my head. He would cry, “Don’t sing mommy! Please don’t sing.” When he got a little older, occasionally we picked up one of his friends and drove them to school. Before the friend got to the car, my little darling would ask me to please remember not to sing while his friend was in the car. At least he stopped crying when I forgot.

Even if you are a terrible singer, you can still only take so much. Name one person who loves to sing that can resist karaoke? I’m talking about a couple of cousins getting together with a friend who happens to have an incredible karaoke set-up with hundreds of songs. I couldn’t resist. In fact, it was my kind of stage. They had to shut out the lights and tell me the party was over to get me to hand over the microphone. I’ll probably never get that chance again. You know how word spreads.

At the beginning of this story, I showed you a picture of a beautiful house. It is the home of our good friends Pat and Jerry Davis. I wrote a few days ago about their unbelievable Christmas decorations and the 13 trees.

They had a wonderful party last week. It was everything a good Christmas party should be and more. Good food, fun friends, and festive in every way. After everyone finished eating and talking and oohing and aahing at all the decorations, someone suggested we sing a few Christmas carols. Most of the people at the party belong to the same church and we have some talented singers and musicians in our congregation. Ron is one who can sing and play a mean piano or organ. I stood by Jerry thinking I could follow his harmonizing. He sang the melody so that didn’t work out too well.

Did I hear someone say, “put a sock in her mouth?”

So..I hit my best 3 or 4 notes and sang my heart out. I may have made a grave mistake. You see, I stood right next to the organ. The thing I didn’t consider at the time, is we’ll be spending New Years Eve with Ron and his wife and a couple of other friends. We’re going back to the RV park where we spent Thanksgiving. Guess what? Ron is putting on a show at the clubhouse..and..He’s bringing his karaoke machine. At least he was going to.

Beautiful home and fabulous decorations. You will note the winter scene in the lower right corner..It’s made from the Styrofoam from the new TV set box. I only got about 1/2 of all the trees and other special touches, but take my word for it. It is a Christmas wonderland.

The Brick House Live Nativity Scene at the Jones County Courthouse

A Story to Behold

Narrator: We begin our story at an Inn in Bethlehem where Mary and Joseph have come to find a room. They have traveled very far to find a safe place to have their baby.

Inn Keeper: I was sorry to have to tell the nice young couple this, but there was just no room at the Inn tonight. In fact, we were overbooked. The only thing I could offer was to put them up in the stable. They had some sheep herders and sheep with them too, so it worked for the good of all people and animals.

Shepherd: Yes, normally I guard my flock by night, but I felt sorry for Joseph and Mary, so a couple of us gathered up our sheep and went with them to Bethlehem.

Narrator: Just imagine all the stars in the sky. On a clear night, all you can see in the sky is stars, stars, stars, and the moon. One night 3 Wise People looked into the sky and saw a star that was brighter than any other.

Star: Follow me. I will shine bright and take you to the stable where a very special baby has been born.

The three Wise People: Okay we will. Should we bring gifts bright star?

Star: Sure..bring frankincense, myrrh, and some gold.

Narrator: Each wise person brought the baby gifts and that’s why we like to give gifts today when we celebrate Christmas. Well, Mary had the baby and she already knew she was supposed to name him Jesus. They wrapped him in some of their clothes, and laid him in a crude little crib they put together.

Mary has become very weary and it appears she has drifted off to sleep.

Treason: What do you think Jerry the Bean Counter, I mean Lantern Holder? Should we wake up the Que..I mean Mary or should I just hold the doll, I mean baby?

Jerry: Who am I supposed to be? Who ever heard of a lantern holder in the Nativity Scene?

Yram: It’s still dark. Hold that lantern up higher. I was supposed to be the third Wise Person and get some crack -up interviews.

Lav: Why are you dressed up like a star Pico? I’m the star. Someone better get me down from here pretty soon or I’m going to fall right on top of that tumbleweed!

Pico: (She is directing the play.) I know we don’t need two stars Lav. I’m wearing a star because I couldn’t find an Angel costume. Yram, I forgot to tell you we switched you from a Wise Person to a back-up shepherd. The cast didn’t wanted to talk to you anyway.

Narrator: Oh no! The star just fell on the tumbleweed and the other non- star is trapped underneath it!

Inn Keeper: Somebody call the fire department! Lav, I mean the Star knocked over the lantern Jerry the Bean Counter, I mean Lantern Holder was holding, and the whole place is on fire!

Shepherd: Grab the sheep! Is that a real baby?

Sherry the Photographic Drawer: Somebody wake the Queen. We gotta get out of here! This will sure be a mess to draw.

Carol: I’ll bring the francen scent It will help get the smokey smell out of our Wise People outfits.

Barney the Deputy Sheriff: You can hold it right there. I’m taking all of ya in. I’m bookin you (sniff) for cruelty to animals, and setting an unlawful fire on County owned property. Is that a real baby? I thought I just heard it burp.

Pico: Don’t worry, I’m Okay, (cough, cough), That’s a wrap!

All the people who were watching what was supposed to be an inspirational play, ran for their lives.

Murdo Girl yells: “Don’t forget to put money in the coffee can!”

 One of the Murdoites can be heard mumbling,”I wonder if it’s too late to go to the Christmas Pageant over at the Harold Thune Auditorium? Like they say, “You get what you pay for.”

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Merry Christmas from the Brick House Gang

It’s Monday morning at the Brick House. It’s early, really early, and Murdo girl is not in the Oblong Office. She probably should be because the phone has been ringing off the hook. The town council has been trying to get local businesses and Presidencies to sign up for the Christmas pageant. It’s to be held in the Harold Thune Auditorium on Christmas Eve. 

It seems a problem has arisen. Everyone  is trying to outdo everybody else. They are all building elaborate sets. They have spent hours building and painting and decorating, not to mention the props they’re spending all their money on. The consternation is being caused because the council had to put their foot down and limit each skit to 15 minutes with only 5 minutes between presentations…not a lot of time to tear down one overblown set and put up another one.  All the participants are so worked up, the whole thing is in danger of being canceled. The proceeds from the event were earmarked for road resurfacing. I know, it doesn’t sound very glamorous, but the infrastructure is in need of repair.

The Oblong Office one hour later. Murdo Girl is on the phone.

Murdo Girl: I’m really glad you called Lav. Where have you been? The whole Coyote Cabinet has been looking for you. (MG recently beat Barney Fife in a close election for Jones County President. She ran on the Coyote ticket.)

Lav: Everyone was giving me such a hard time about the penny tattoo on my forehead, I decided to do something about it.

Murdo Girl: Really Lav? You mean you had it removed? Where did you get the money?

Lav: It only cost me $5.00. I took a correspondence course on how to remove tattoos. I was really lucky it was a penny tattoo.  All it took was some copper cleaner and a stiff brush. Hey MG! I just heard about the Christmas Pageant. Can I be the star?

Murdo Girl: That’s pretty bold of you Lav. What makes you think you should be the star of our skit?

Lav: Not that kind of star MG. I want to be the star in the sky.

Murdo Girl: Perfect Lav! Up in the sky you’ll go. Better get to work on your costume. Bye twinkle toes.

 

There is a knock on the door. It’s the Queen.

Murdo Girl: It’s good to see you Queen. You rarely leave the English room.

Queen E: There’s no need to MG. Since my quarters are just down a few steps from the Oblong Office, I can hear everything that goes on. I’m here about the skit. When will the auditions take place?

Murdo Girl: All I know is that Treason is writing the script and Pico is directing. I think TC is going to narrate. It makes sense the Town Crier would be the narrator. What part are you angling  for Queen?

Queen E: The Queen Mother of course. She just sits there and looks at the baby doesn’t she? I must have a sitting part. I have arthritis in both knees.

Murdo Girl: Ouch! I haven’t told the team yet, but there won’t be a skit if we can’t come up with the $50 entry fee. Maybe you could call Charles..

Queen E. No can do MG. Chuckles and Cam are mad because I won’t abdicate the throne. Sorry, but all my assets are tied up across the pond. Wait..let me see what I’ve got in my purse.

Murdo Girl: Never mind Queen. You never have money in your purse; and Queen..that costume isn’t exactly the look we’re going for ..wrong Madonna.

Queen E : Well, I’m off to court.

Murdo Girl: I keep telling you Queen. You don’t have a Court to rule over in Murdo. I’m the President.

Queen E.: Tell that to the Judge. I got picked up for jaywalking.

A FINE? I MUST PAY COURT COSTS? I BROUGHT CHARACTER WITNESSES. HOW ABOUT I MAKE YOU A KNIGHT AND WE CALL IT EVEN?

It’s the end of a long day for Murdo Girl. She is reflecting on the state of her administration. It’s almost Christmas. Her favorite time of the year. She would talk to Jerry the Bean Counter tomorrow. There had  to be a way to generate the $50 so her Cabinet could participate in the pageant. With all these thoughts going through her mind, she makes her way to the employee lounge. A hot cup of tea sounded good.

As she neared the door to the lounge, she heard something. It sounded like voices raised in song. She opened the door and there they all were. Her team.. DM, Pico, A I, Sherri the Photographic Drawer, Treason, Jerry the Bean Counter, TC, Yram, Lav, Carol the singer, and the Queen. They were practicing their skit for the Pageant…or were they?

 Jerry: Hi Murdo Girl. We’re glad you’re here. We’ve got something to tell you.

DM: Yeah Pres. We all put our heads together and came up with the best idea we’ve ever had! Or you could say, it’s the best idea we’ve never had.

Sherri the Photographic Drawer: The best part is we don’t have to come up with the 50 bucks for an entry fee, and it’s Live! I don’t even have to draw a photograph!

Lav: No, the best part is I get to be the Star.

Treason: This is a plan we can all get behind!

TC: I still get to cry. I mean weep. That’s what they called crying back then. I’ll be TW.

A I: Yeah, those Pageant hogs can just fall all over themselves trying to outdo each other!

Murdo Girl: Would someone please tell me what this wonderful plan is?

Yram: I will! I want to! We are going to skip the Pageant. We are going to be a “Live Nativity Scene” on the Courthouse lawn. We even have two real sheep, and a donkey. We don’t have a real baby, but Carol is going to see if she can get her granddaughter’s doll that eats, wets, and cries. It even burps when you pat it on the back. No one will even guess it’s not a real baby.

And are you ready for this President Murdo Girl? I’m going to be the head Wise Man with a little twist. I’m going to be a crack- up reporter Wise Man, and interview every Live Nativity Scene person. Don’t you love it Murdo Girl?

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Stay tuned for the Brick House Live Nativity Scene Presentation.

You don’t want to miss it!

Oh, there will be a coffee can placed in a strategic location for road repair donations.

 

Jerome

I’m a sad little homeless puppy. I named myself Jerome.

I’m in a big store just waiting, for someone to give me a home.

I’m sitting here in the window. I know I’m not very obscure.

I don’t know why kids don’t like me, or how I got here for sure.

A child asked Santa for a puppy. She couldn’t make up her mind.

That’s why I’m so many colors. I guess I’m one of a kind.

She asked for a puppy with short ears, long legs and a tiny head.

It’s clear the elves didn’t listen, because they made me instead.

I know I’m not what she asked for. She didn’t want a puppy that smiled.

I hope somebody will see me, and buy me for some other child.

I promise I’ll never make messes. I’ll never chew up your socks.

I won’t bark at the doorbell, and you won’t have to take me on walks.

It doesn’t cost money to feed me. I won’t ever lick your face.

I live on hugs and affection, and you can take me anyplace.

I see all the children pass by me. They won’t even give me a look.

They say they want a real puppy. Well, I’m pretty real in my book.

I wish Santa would tell me.. the where, the why, and what for.

Shouldn’t I be in a window, where toys are and not a pet store?

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If you’re buying your kids that bicycle..The one with the shiny chrome.

 It’s okay if I’m stuffed in a stocking. I’m Jerome and I sure need a home.

Remember all the animals.. The many who need your help.

A dollar or two makes a difference. Find Joy in the giving..”Yelp! Yelp!”

Please consider making a donation to your local humane society or spay and neuter clinic this Christmas.

I was going through my week with a reasonable amount of serenity. I wasn’t going to put up Christmas decorations this year because we didn’t get home from our trip until after Thanksgiving and the very next day, I was already behind. Our daughter is having Christmas Eve at her house, so mine really doesn’t have to be decorated.

Then I went to my friend Pat’s house. She already had her 13 plus Christmas trees up and her whole house decorated. I helped her with the yard for about 15 minutes. I didn’t ask her, but I’m sure she has all of her shopping done too. This morning at church, she told me she was still decorating. “For heaven sake what?” I asked. “Are you decorating your decorations?”

“No,” she said. “There are still a few things in the house that don’t have a bow or something on them.” She has a wonderful house to accommodate all of the decorations, and her creativity is amazing. She made a beautiful winter scene out of the styrofoam that was in the box their new television set came in. I’m not kidding. I never would have guessed. Her decorating is never overdone. It’s always beautiful. It’s a place people like to go just to look at everything and be instantly transformed from whining about having so much to do, to thinking, “How in God’s creation does she do all this? I should be able to put up one little tree!”

My  son and granddaughters at Pat and Jerry’s house last year

Pat’s husband Jerry helps haul the crates to the house and back again when everything gets packed away in mid January. I’m always surprised when I go to their house and Jerry doesn’t at least have a bow on his head and a candy cane in his mouth, but so far he’s escaped.. Quite frankly, he’s starting to look a little out-of-place.

Where was I going with all of this? It’s not what I had intended to write about. Oh yes… I decided after seeing Pat and Jerry’s house, I would at least put the tree up, so I did that last night. I looked around the house this morning, and it looked really pitiful with just the tree, so I decided to put my nutcracker collection out. I always put them on top of the kitchen cabinets, which means I have to take everything already up there down, and dust the shelves. (I really only do this because Kip is usually watching football in the living room and he can see me. I want to show him that I do dust.) I really hate dusting.

I was in the middle of all that when I checked my email, which told me I had a message from a Murdo Girl reader. The message included a picture. She said she found my perfect Christmas hat at Walmart. You guessed it. It was a Santa hat with a crown.

So here’s what I did. I dropped everything and drove to my Walmart. I looked all over that store. I searched through everything and I found lots of hats, so of course I had to look at every one of the 100 or so choices looking for…The one with the crown…I left hat and crown-less. When I left home, I told Kip I just had to have that hat. I told him it would probably only cost what? $6.00 tops? Don’t tell him this, but I would have paid at least $30.00 if I could have found it. Did I go home? No..I went to Family Dollar, Dollar Gentril, (as my friend Laura calls it), and Goodwill. No one had a Santa hat with a crown on it.

Thanks Pat and Kerri. I almost had a stress free Christmas. You two set the bar way too high. I’m only halfway through dusting and putting up nutcrackers, and I could have probably found several gifts in the time it took me to search for the crown hat.

But, all is not lost. I got really creative like my friend Pat. I’m exactly where I always am this time of year…Loonier than a Looney Tune.

Give me a little break. I left my real crown locked up in the RV and I forgot to buy a TV at Walmart to get some styrofoam.

BTW..Kip decided he’s going to put up just one of his outside decorations…Buahaha!

 

Everybody has their own ideas about Christmas traditions. Take Esther in the picture for instance. What do you think of her tree? I wonder if she knows she got a fake Christmas tree shaped just like her. I know that’s not very nice to say…Sorry, but I don’t much like aluminum trees. At least she put different colored balls on it.

Actually, Esther is my best friend’s Grandma. Barbie, (my friend), helped Esther decorate the tree. I made the colorful ribbon chain hanging above the doorway between the dinning room and the living room. Notice how I used colorful ribbon to match the colors of the balls on the tree. It kind of brings it all together don’t you think?

Even though Esther doesn’t look very happy in the picture, she is really nice.. She is one of the best Grandma’s I have ever known, and I’ve known a few. On the day we decorated, Esther let us make taffy, which was really nice of her since it makes the hugest mess. You cook Karo syrup, vinegar, baking soda and water in a heavy pan on the stove. When it starts to bubble, you put just a little dab in a glass of cold water to see if it’s at what you call the “soft ball” stage. That part is nerve- wracking because you can ruin the whole batch if you don’t watch it close enough.

When it’s ready, you pour the hot mess onto a buttered cookie sheet, then comes another nerve- wracking part. You have to wait until it’s cool enough to handle, but not all the way cool or it will get too hard to pull. Even though we butter our hands, Barbie and I burned our fingers a little. Anyway, we picked up some of the mixture and pulled and pulled until it turned white, then we twisted it into a rope and laid it on wax paper. If you leave it alone for a while, it turns solid and you can cut it into bite size pieces with scissors.

That taffy is the best thing I have ever put in my mouth, and I’ve put a lot of things in my mouth. We wrapped a few candies in a square of Saran wrap and tied it with red and green ribbons. Barbie and I are going to give some to kids we like for Christmas presents. Esther says it means more if you make things with your own two hands, even if you burn them a little. I think she was really thankful that Barbie and I did all the pulling. Esther has gnarly arthritis. You can see winces on her face when her hands hurt bad. (That must be her hand in my picture. She helped me learn how to pull.)

Barbie has a Grandpa too. His name is Slim. I think he has a real name, but I don’t know what it is. Slim is only about half as big as Esther. I would say he’s in the shape of a harmonica, which he plays really fantastically. He knows all the songs he plays in his heart. Slim wears bib overalls and he carries that harmonica with him always. He puts it in his pocket next to his heart. Maybe that’s how his heart learns all those songs.

Slim doesn’t talk much. He says Esther is always putting words in his mouth anyway, so she just as well say what he means in the first place. She says you can’t talk with a harmonica in your mouth all the time. One of Slim’s front teeth is missing. I think that’s the real reason he doesn’t talk much. Before my front teeth grew in I couldn’t say my S’s right.

After Barbie and I helped clean up the candy mess, we did Esther a good turn. We carried all the dirty laundry down to the basement. It was a lot because she wanted to wash all the Christmas tablecloths and napkins. I decided in my mind if I was still there when it came time to iron, I was going to have to go home. She wouldn’t let us put things through the wringer on the washer for fear we’d get our fingers caught, and that would be the end of our taffy pulling days.

I like preparing for Christmas…at someone else’s house. Mom makes fudge every year, which I like. She also makes peanut brittle, which I don’t like. She doesn’t train me like Barbie’s Grandma trains her. Mom says I’m too annoying to teach to cook. I guess when I grow up and get married, and my husband wants to eat, I’ll have to tell him I can’t cook because I was too annoying as a child. Then I’ll ask him if he would like some taffy.

Mom says the days are getting shorter, because it gets dark so soon. I think just the opposite for the same reason. You can’t play outside after dark, so I have to stay inside for all those dark hours before bedtime. I’m not going to kid myself. December goes way too slow. When I tell Mom that, she says I shouldn’t wish my life away. I’m not. I just want Christmas to get here. I asked for a doll that I saw in the Alden’s Catalog who’s 2 feet tall. She has pigtails and her name is Paula. When Mom asked me where someone might find Paula, I couldn’t say the Alden’s Catalog, so I told her at the North Pole. I wasn’t sure what to say. Mom might have been trying to trick me and I didn’t want to take any chances. I decided to ask her if Santa Claus got ideas from the Alden’s Catalog. We’ll have to see if I did the right thing.

This is my Aunt Martha. She is sitting by our Christmas tree, which you can tell is aluminum. All the balls are blue. All 10 of them.

We have a fireplace, so if there is a Santa he can get into our house his normal way. He probably likes Barbie’s house better. She doesn’t have a fireplace, so her Grandpa found a pattern for a special key that will only work for Santa Claus. He made the key out of wood and painted it gold. On Christmas Eve, he hangs it on a nail beside the door. We never lock our door anyway, but if there is a Santa Claus, he probably won’t know that.

I know. I’ll add a P.S. to my Santa Claus letter. This will be the best letter I have ever written to him, and I’ve written a few.

 

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I have to write a paper about what I did on Christmas vacation. I decided to write it before Christmas so I wouldn’t forget.

Thank you very much

 

 

 

Happy Heavenly Birthday, Pete! I wrote this on Pete’s 100th Birthday…

When I saw this photo on Sherri Miller’s Facebook page, I was drawn to it. I felt it told a story. The poem is in honor of the man in the photo. His name is Pete Swinson. He is Sherri Miller’s Dad, and he is celebrating his birthday tomorrow with family and friends. What a great day!

Mr. Pete Swinson

This captured moment.. touched me and yet, this is a man I’ve never met.

The photo moved me. I wondered why. Just who was this stand-up guy?

I searched my thoughts to no avail. I looked long minutes at each detail.

First I noticed how he stood; like a man of honor would.

I saw the men he stood before. Did they depict a time of war?

Their salute with heads held high, must bring him thoughts of days gone by.

One hand was open..today’s reflection. The other clenched in recollection?

He survived unlike some others. During wartime, they were all brothers.

His lips are set, in neither smile nor frown. Keeping tears from tumbling down.

When I look at him I see, a man of great humility.

His life went on. Family needs were met, but on that day, he was an honored Vet.

I saw his eyes. Windows to the soul. He’s a good man. One I’d like to know.

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The poem is a reflection of what I see in the photograph, and what I know of this man’s daughter whom I have also never met. Sherri and I have become good friends without meeting. Her Dad must take after her right? I’m pretty sure Pete’s family adores him.

And if you have ever wondered..

What it’s like to be a hundred.

Pete’s having a birthday..and I’m told.

Tomorrow he will be 100 years old!

All the Best!

I love this sequence of pictures of our granddaughter, Charlie. I know how she feels and what she is thinking.

1) “I know you want me to smile, but I need a minute.”

2) “I’m going to pretend you’re not there. I need a minute.”

3) “You just don’t get it do you? I need a minute.”

4) “Please, just get out of my face for one MINUTE!”

Some people call it “alone time.” Some say, “I need my space.” Some pout, some have a meltdown, some whimper, and some shout. We all handle it differently, but we all have those moments when things just get to be too much and we’re no longer rational. We’re off when others want us to be on. We’re not feeling the gratitude or appreciation.

Here is my theory.. It all started with the starving children overseas. You know, the ones your parents told you about to guilt you into cleaning your plate.

I never heard the word “stress” when I was growing up. If you have an old Webster’s Dictionary, the definition is something about pressed wood. Now stress is the reason for everything we do that’s bad, like drinking, smoking, eating too much, taking too many sick days, and a multitude of other bad things.

I sometimes think of something my Mother said in the middle of one of her meltdowns. Someone told her that she had no business acting the way she did because she should be grateful that one of the “what ifs,” wasn’t happening to her. What if you didn’t know where your next meal was coming from? What if you or someone you love was fighting some terrible disease?

Mom’s mood didn’t improve one bit, because she was a worrier. She hadn’t thought about some of those things. Now she was worried AND felt ashamed. Her answer? “If people don’t have big things to worry about, they worry about little things.” She had a point. You’ve heard the expression, “Cheer up. Things could be worse.” Sometimes followed by, “So I cheered up and sure enough, things got worse.”

Do we really not have the right to feel like Charlie did unless the very worst has happened? Sometimes, all we need is a minute. If we don’t get it, we might need professional help.

The other side of this is that you must recognize when others need a minute. Like our granddaughter Skyler in the picture above. You have just said “No” to a four year old. They might not be able to articulate it, but in most cases they need a minute to come up with plan B…or maybe you need a minute to think about what their plan B will be.

This time of year, is inherently stressful. We’re all looking for that special gift for the person who already has everything. We want our kids and grandkids to understand the meaning of Christmas, but they still make a list as long as your arm. Be easy on yourself. Ask them what they got for Christmas last year. You might get a look like this.

I’m in favor of having a “Give me a minute day.” A day when all you have to say is, “I need a minute,” and everyone will know if you don’t have that minute to gather yourself, or re-center your life, they will suffer the consequences no matter how many children overseas are starving.

I realize not everyone is going to agree with me. In that case, I’ll give you a minute.