10K
It’s gonna happen to this little blog soon… the 10,000th hit since it started back in late 2009. It doesn’t seem possible, really, that anything I write could be interesting enough for that many people to come by and read – even if it is over the course of time. In any case, I am very humbled by the numbers. If you happen to be customer number 10K, sorry – no happy prize for you. All I can offer is a big smile and a thumbs up! 😀
I’ve had a lot of thoughts running rampant in my head over the past couple of months. Come May of this year, I will have resided at my little condo for three years – my little ‘treehouse in the sky’ as I have referred to so often. Well, I’ve decided I won’t be renewing my lease this year. Just recently, Keith and I decided to make the big jump to combine households at his residence. Needless to say, it’s something we’ve both considered for a long while now. You all know how I feel about timing, that it’s everything… and we both feel more sure than ever that the time is finally right…
Over the next several months, I’ll be busy cleaning out, packing and getting some other affairs in order. It’s amazing what all you can accumulate in three short years. I’m glad to have the extended time to do so, and not have to cram everything into a month’s time, or shorter.
Oh, and have I mentioned how very excited I am?? I mean I’m seriously off-the-charts happy…
No Shadow… Spring is Near!!
It’s not gonna be difficult for me to find a subject for me to hop on today…
It’s Groundhog Day, and for the first time in a long awaited while Punxsutawney Phil is not afraid… that’s right folks, NO SHADOW!! Know what that means?
Spring is near!! Spring is near!! Oh gosh… Spring is near!!
The story of Groundhog Day begins with Candlemas, an early Christian holiday where candles were blessed and distributed. Celebrators of the holiday eventually declared clear skies on Candlemas meant a longer winter. The Roman legions, during the conquest of the northern country, brought this tradition to the Germans, who concluded that if the sun made an appearance on Candlemas Day, a hedgehog would cast a shadow, thus predicting six more weeks of bad weather or “Second Winter.” German immigrants brought the tradition to Pennsylvania, but how did Punxsutawney Phil emerge?
In 1887, a spirited group of groundhog hunters from Punxsutawney dubbed themselves “The Punxsutawney Groundhog Club.” One member was an editor of Punxsutawney’s newspaper. Using his ink, he proclaimed Punxsutawney Phil, the local groundhog, to be the one and only weather prognosticating groundhog. He issued this proclamation on Candlemas, and yes, Groundhog Day. Phil’s fame spread, and newspapers from around the globe began to report his Gobbler’s Knob prediction. Info from http://www.visitpa.com/groundhog-day
In related news, February 2nd is exactly the halfway point between the Winter Solstice and the Spring Equinox. It is the winter midpoint or ‘cross-quarter’ day. The coldest, bleakest part of our winter season is now officially half over!
Spring is near!! Spring is near!! Oh gosh… Spring is near!
Visit the official Groundhog Day site: http://www.groundhog.org/
Work it out
Having been sunny and highs hitting the mid-60’s, what a beautiful weekend it was. We went hiking for a bit yesterday at a local mountain/state park near Keith’s house – it was just the perfect day for it. With the amount of trailing we’ve done in the past year, I’ve decided that I might just be in need of some hiking gear. At the very least, a walking pole with which to steady myself. 🙂
My outdoorsy stud-muffin...
After the hike, I was completely spent. As soon as we got back, I promptly collapsed on the couch and went out like a light for two hours. This is not like me… I’ve seriously got to work on my endurance. With this said, I have been challenged:
The Jillian Michaels challenge for the week...
I really like the thought of a healthy new recipe under 500 cals per serving. Now, to burn 300 cals (or more) per day? I can only accomplish that one way, Jillian – Ima have to double-up on my workouts this week. I’ll be sure to let ya know how that goes for me.
It’s the Little Things… that get discontinued
It really is the little things in life that I appreciate the most and seem to please me to no end. Bear with me on this for just a minute.
When I find something I really like, I stick with it. No use fixing something that’s not broken, I always say – take for instance my anti-bac. For years now, I’ve been an avid user of the ‘waterless’ smell-good foaming pump anti-bac by Bath and Body Works. (Note empty bottle to right.) This little 3″ smell-good pump generally lasts me around six months, for which I generally have backups on-hand when the time comes to replace.
Except this time.
So off I go to hit the local Bath and Body Works store on the way home from work… with the addition of my custom BBW Bon-Blinders so I may leave the store with only the anti-bac and nothing else additional.
Now where oh where is my foaming anti-bac? I noticed the newfangled little pocket gel-pacs that require lots of shaking, squeezing and patience to get anything out of… but not my easy little one-squirt smell-good pump. To my dismay, the saleslady informed me they were discontinued, then even proceeded to knock the ‘old’ product by saying ‘they leaked’. I told her in all my years of using, one had never leaked on me. So go knock on my product with someone else, lady.
I went home, checked their website and ended up ordering a slew of them online. Gotta love that online ordering! Mind you, I will have more than several ‘backups’ on hand once they arrive… all lined up in a smell-good rainbow-colored array.
It’s the law of Bon, I swear… if I like something, it will be discontinued. My favorite brand of Clinique foundation fell victim just last month. Prior to that, my favorite Lean Cuisine meal.
Hey Bon, would you like some cheese with that whine??
Happy Birthday Mom
Today is my Mama’s birthday. We’ll all meet up tonight for dinner at the steak house on the lake (which is where she chose). There the views are excellent and the food is delicious.
Photo © http://www.tbonesonthelake.com
It doesn’t seem that long ago when I had to tilt my head up to look at her, not very long at all. Even though she might not know it, she was always my best friend even back then. We did everything together – listened to eight-tracks, cooked oven-doughnuts and pizzas, watched our televisions shows and jumped the ocean waves together. We share the same apparent love for the sea, as we used to float alongside each other for hours on end.
Of course those teenage years came when I rebelled, and turned into what could have possibly been her worst nightmare. I’ve often wished I could reverse time and rethink some of my actions, but this is just not meant to be. In my most rebellious of years, she actually met and married her soulmate – who I’m convinced God sent to her at the most needed time in her life.
Timing. It really is everything.
Today, she’s still my best friend. As was her mother was her best friend. As I hope I will be my own daughter’s best friend. Life is an ongoing circle, always. May we always be appreciative of what we have at the given time.
Happy Birthday, Mama!
My Girl
I am forever thankful for the one child God blessed me with. I find myself contemplating it from time to time, and I simply cannot imagine what my life would have been like without her in it.
From the age of three months, she’s always loved to laugh more than anything else. I can say with 100% certainty that she gets this from her mama – and although that trait seemed to get me in trouble more times than not, she has managed it well.
Even as a young girl, her maturity level always surpassed that of her peers. Her tenderness and caring nature was apparent from the beginning, too. If someone was hurt or injured, she wouldn’t rest until she knew the situation was rectified – even if she was forcefully removed.
A real one-track mind, hers has been said to be. I guess that can be a hindrance at times, but not necessarily a bad thing. I believe that one-track mind was the source of her strong will that has endured from childhood throughout adulthood, which her pawpaw endearingly referred to her as the “Philadelphia Lawyer”. This most befitting term has yet to be matched.
I have often marvelled at her intelligence. It’s not just what you’re born with, ya know – it’s what you do with it. While she watched friends either dropping out of college or opting for other routes in life, she continued to work hard and give the extra mile knowing it would greatly impact her future. From the very beginning, I’ve asked three things of her…
1. Love God. 2. Get a good education so you never have to depend on anyone to keep you up in life. 3. Learn to drive a stick-shift, an emergency situation may warrant you knowing how one day. So far, she’s completed all but number three. 🙂
She’ll be twenty-three in March. Let me now revisit her maturity level, which even today, especially today – exists in full-force. Although she’s fresh out of college, she’s holding her own with her first apartment and a wonderful start to her career. She sees where and what she wants to be in life, and makes it happen. Would that I were that strong when I was her age! She worries about her own parents so much that it’s almost if the roles were actually reversed, and gives good solemn advice that I’ve never found any wrong in yet. Sometimes I see her taking on too much in this area, for her worries are often many. How I do wish I could take some of this weight off of her shoulders at times.
I could, of course, go on. But that’s my bright shining star – always full of surprises, excitement, fun, beauty, ambition, love and compassion, and will spout out an honest answer to anyone regardless of the consequences. I can’t imagine being any more proud of her than I am at this moment… though I’m quite sure the day will come when I am.
(Note the cactus to the rear in photo to immediate right… ouch…)
That’s my little comedienne.
Time in a bottle
Have you ever thought about the old saying ‘actions speak louder than words’? I’ve thought about it quite a bit lately. It points out the fact that while people may say one thing, their actions may be saying something quite different – and throughout time, a persons actions tend to give a better indication of their true nature.
Reflecting back on prior lessons learned, I know that we can usually relate this to relationships. Sometimes you feel so very certain about your future or how someone else feels about you, and then something crystal clear is presented. It may be something you’ve ignored for a while, perhaps even grown accustomed to throughout time. It could have been a question that was raised before, only to be brushed back under the rug.
Just like time itself.
More lucid delusions
The past two nights my dreams have been nothing short of incredibly weird. It was explained to me by reason of “sometimes your brain just needs to dump the crap each day”. Well, okay – I’ll buy into that.
Dream documentation #232.
Sunday night, I dreamed of myself, my daughter, my mother, my mother-in-law, my ex-husband, and my deceased sister-in-law. My remaining sister-in-law that is still alive was not in this dream. We all were at some recreational park in which a walkway surrounded this flowing river of sorts – almost like a man-made whitewater center, located in the mountains. I noticed my ex-husband racing a small motor-boat around in what turned out to be a lazy river, with swimmers and floaters alike occupying the water. I remember thinking ‘he’s gonna run over someone, or at the very least piss somebody off’. Meanwhile my mother, daughter, mother-in-law, deceased sister-in-law and I were were standing in line at some concession stand. My deceased sister-in-law was angry and upset with me, which seemed to be overshadowing an otherwise good time. I stood beside her in the dream, put my arm around her waist and said “This is not the place and time. We’re all here for Julia [my daughter]”, to which she nodded yes. Next I remember us walking up to a secluded cabin on a hill, where for some reason we were all staying at. The view was excellent and the cabin was rustic and beautiful, inside and out.
At the end of the dream my ex-husband was still out there, going ’round and ’round that river in the boat, as if being driven to do so.
As usual, in documenting the above dream the pertinent one from last night eludes me – this doesn’t come as a surprise. Maybe I’ll get some alone time today on my outside labeling project and it’ll come flooding back. If so, I’ll include it on here as I’d originally planned.
Dream documentation #231 (written December 13, 2010 – but never posted)
Deep into Saturday night, I dreamed of snow. I was driving on the interstate and it became increasingly difficult as I went along. At one point, I got a ‘running start’ while going downhill, and even while driving in someone else’s tracks the foot-plus of snow was bringing me to a halt. I haven’t seen that much snow in, well, it’s been years. It seemed so real. I ended up abandoning my car and attempting to walk to my unknown destination.
Iterum occasió
I’ve written about second chances more than one time, so you’re likely already aware of my deep appreciation of them. The dear fella by the name of Shawn B. over at Happy Publishing frequently brightens the days of many with his website dedicated to inspirational quotations and poems. The one posted yesterday captured my attention, and heart.
The following was posted January 17, 2001 on www.happypublishing.com. Feel free to check the site out if you get a chance…
The Second Chance
We may not have the means at hand
To change a circumstance.
But we may gain, to our relief,
A welcome second chance–
A chance to prove that we will try,
With all our might and main,
To change our ways, to right some wrong,
And pull our weight again.
So let us thank the generous folk
Who overlook our lapse,
And put their trust in our success,
Where once we failed, perhaps.
The second chance can bright results
The first one to outweigh,
For in the meantime we have learned
A little more each day.
-Anna Hayward
Born-on date
Is today for my sweet guy, Keith. Happy Birthday, baby! I hope you enjoy your special day, and the year ahead is all you wish it to be and much more. You truly deserve it.
The sixties… it seems so long ago, but yet not so long ago. Sure, we can’t really remember that era as children of the seventies, but we still remember all the hype. A lot of it we heard about from our parents, you could always depend on the media’s skewed views, and anything left we were taught in history class. The protests, the demonstrations, the assassinations, the Vietnam war, the flower power.
The seventies, now that’s really where it all began. Friends, bikes, and spending most of your time outside. Jimi Hendrix. All in the Family. Watergate. Hee Haw. You still remember your surroundings when you heard Elvis Presley died. Disco music. KISS.
I won’t go into the rest of the decades, as I could only document my own. Unbeknownst to us at the time, during the eighties we came together briefly by being classmates of the same graduating year. How I really wish I’d known you then, but then again, timing is everything….
To everything there is a season,
and a time to every purpose under heaven:
A time to be born,
and a time to die;
a time to plant,
and a time to pluck up
that which is planted;
A time to kill,
and a time to heal;
a time to break down,
and a time to build up;
A time to weep,
and a time to laugh;
a time to mourn,
and a time to dance;
A time to cast away stones,
and a time to gather stones together;
a time to embrace,
and a time to refrain from embracing;
A time to get,
and a time to lose;
a time to keep,
and a time to cast away;
A time to rend,
and a time to sew;
a time to keep silence,
and a time to speak;
A time to love,
and a time to hate;
a time of war;
and a time of peace.
The Holy Bible (King James Version)
Attributed to King Solomon
Ecclesiastes 3:1-8
Icing on the cake
And that’s sure what it was. The icing came all during the day yesterday from late afternoon on into the night. When all was said and done, about three-eighths of an inch of bonified icing topped our lovely vanilla snow cake. I am eternally thankful we never lost power.
It’s going on mid-week now, and I have yet to go to work. I realized today that my car wasn’t going to de-ice itself, neither was the driveway going to shovel itself. So we dressed, went outside and made a big show of it, huffing and puffing and sliding/sweating our little buns off – to start and finish a job we didn’t really want to do. Seeing as how the temps aren’t supposed to rise above freezing until Friday-ish, I needed to get my tail in gear and do what I had to do to get home. You see, my little treehouse is situated privately in the very back of a complex that can be tricky at best in ice – but once I get out of there, I’m on a main thoroughfare. In going back to work, there was no way I was getting out of Keith’s neighborhood any time before noon. So, I had to get home.
I really don’t mean to drill this ‘Southern’ thing into the ground when it comes to us driving, but… okay just one more time. Have I told you we just can’t drive in the stuff? Snow is bad enough, but go and add over a quarter-inch of ice over it? Impossible. Through country back-roads that have no hope of ever being scraped/brimed? Inconceivable. But, guess who did it and made the ten-mile trip back home? (And, might I add, *cough-cough* you-tubed a portion of it?)
ME! (If anyone ever had doubt as to my southern-ness before, please refer to that accent – my gosh. I’ve obviously been here awhile now.)
Okay, enough with the bragging. For those who wonder, Keith was insistent on at least following me – I just saw no logic in it. After several failed attempts at convincing me, I finally convinced him that I had a cell phone and that signals had always been plentiful through the area, with the exception of a certain spot. But hey, I also had my new snow boots on! So, Da da da-DAH da-DAH!! It’ssss Super–Bonnnn!!
Top left, a Snow-Angel named Keith; top right, icicles hanging from the roof; bottom left, a few minutes into de-icing the 'windsled'; bottom right, me cheesing in (are those really bedroom slippers??) in the snow. Don't ask where the new boots are – I have no idea.
Well, I hadn’t been at home very long at all when a crave-wave winded it’s way into my head and wafted right down to where I could literally smell it.
Chinese… take-out… mmm, good good… come and get me…
I tried to ignore it, really I tried… to no avail. Moments later I was back on the road on a Chinese food quest. I found it so weird that there was no 5 o’clock rush-hour traffic. I mean NONE. I did mention, didn’t I, that the ice and snow brought this city to a screeching halt?
So here it is, my fortune for the date 1-11-11. A very befitting one, I think, considering my day…
Guess this whole ‘I can drive now’ thing means one thing – I gotta go back to work tomorrow…
Winter wonderland
“Baby… it’s white outside”, I woke up to Keith whispering in my ear about 4am this morning. Sure enough, the ground was covered – as much of the south is today. It’s been an unusual winter so far in the south in terms of snowfall. The next few hours were spent pulling up dopplar radars on our phones and contacting the necessary bosses to advise them we weren’t coming in.
As long as Keith and I have been together and through several snows, we’ve never been together during a snow. So instead of packing up and going home yesterday, I went and gathered some extra clothes and opted to stay at his house. Being the sweetie he is, he even took me to the store and bought me some boots to walk in the snow in (it’s tough getting around in the white stuff in tennis-shoes). We loaded up on the needed goods including another feeder and more sunflower seed for the birds, which they’ve been going nuts over this morning. Camille’s been so enthralled with the birds, that like a little kid she won’t even take a nap. In typical southern fashion, the snow has pretty much crippled the city and surrounding areas.
But it’s soooo pretty. 🙂
Camille scored her a new bed Friday, which would’ve normally taken a few weeks for her to break down and get in. For some unknown reason, she took right to this one! Maybe it’s the color fashion that so closely corresponds with her own.
Or maybe it was the fire.
New Year, New Beginnings… Part II
2010… it’s hard to believe it’s already over! Once again, it’s time for me make my year-end picks. I must pick my word of the year, and a meaningful new banner picture – something that I can look at for an entire year without getting sick of it. For those of you who missed it last year, here’s the link to New Year, New Beginnings Part I.
Even after a full year of looking at my banner pic, I’m sad to see it go. The below collage was made from all things I love, and I think the visual description alone pretty much says it all. Five little things at a glance that describe me.
Banner picture for 2010
For every year since the start of my ‘new life’, I’ve donned a single word that seems to most closely correspond with what that year meant to me. This whole word thing started pretty innocently in 2008, when I reflected back and chose the word Monumental. 2008 was the year I grew a backbone, or I’d like to think part of one – and walked that plank in search of a new life. The word I chose for 2009 was Colorful. 2009 was the year of mistakes growing for me. The chance to experience many, many firsts and new things, as well as learning truckloads about my own self.
On to my word of 2010. Drum Roll Please…
Serene. Isn’t that nice? I even like the way it looks. True, it doesn’t pack a punch like Monumental does. It doesn’t make the mind wonder what the hell I’ve been up to like Colorful does. It’s simple. The way my year was. Simple, easy… predictable. And, predictable can be a very good thing.
There’s also something else – something I honestly hadn’t contemplated until after I’d already chosen my word. As a young girl, I decided I didn’t like my name. My fix was, much to my Mother’s chagrin, ‘changing’ it to one of my own choosing. My choice was Serena. I was often asked ‘oh you mean Selena?’ ‘No’, I would say, ‘Serena.’ I could never explain exactly why I loved this name, and I even used it as my own signature until a teacher told me I couldn’t do it anymore. I was crushed! Such a beautiful name that was just slightly beyond my reach. Of course I grew out of this ‘phase’, but even in reflecting back, I remember how good the name made me feel when I used it as my own. (I also used to go around with a bright yellow turtleneck attached to my head, pretending I had long flowing blonde hair… but that’s another story. I blame all that on the Barbies.)
I like to think that after this year… I’ve finally found myself. Because, I actually feel ‘Serene’.
I believe I’ve finally found Serena.
I’d like to wish a Happy New Year to all of you. May it be a year of good health, prosperity, peace and unity for us all – God bless.
Define IRONY…
Well, actually it came by way of the 5 o’clock news this evening.
There’s a strangeness that no one can quite put their finger on. In a suburb right outside of my lovely town, a little girl was photographed. By a stranger. Playing in the snow. Zipped up tight to her nose in fluffy coatings and wintry garb. That’s right folks, a picture was taken.
Let me say first, I’m not trying to make light of any sort of potentially dangerous situation, particularly that which involves a child. But I’ve gotta say, there are some things with this ‘story’ that just don’t jive well with me.
The story as told by an 8-year old girl starts with her playing down the street from her house, and looking up to see a man taking a snapshot of ‘her’. She ran home to tell her mother. Mom is then broadcast all over the evening news rolling her eyes and saying “the thought of a sick, perverted man having a picture of my daughter infuriates me”. Every. Ten. Minutes. Well yeah lady, I have a daughter. That particular thought would infuriate me too.
But.
Let’s say for the sake of argument – there was this man going down the road with his wife driving (the little girl reported he was in the passenger seat – with no description of the driver) who decided to take a few rare southern snow pics, like I had the urge to do my own self today. The little girl (or other children) just happened to be in the general vicinity of where the camera was faced. Hell, it’s happened to me many times – I’ve just never been ‘accused’ of anything. But then again… I’m female. Hey, somebody had to say it…
Through many years of photography, I of course have my own photo library. Rather than a subject who happens to be laced, zipped and velcroed all the way up to their nostrils in the dead of winter – I’m quite sure a few of mine are on a public beach (Gasp**) in bathing suits! Certainly they weren’t the intended subjects of the frame – but what if they had been? This is what it’s come to. Yes, this. Here and now.
I must give credit to my Dad and his eagle-eye on this subject, as it was he who called and brought me up to speed on the said situation-at-hand. Yes, it’s pretty bad when you can’t be your normal self anymore. To be forced to avoid situations we’ve not only been accustomed to all our lives but have been raised to admire, respect and enjoy. Now we have to worry about staring a little too long, if at all… whether anything we say might be perceived as a prelude to an abduction… not to mention the subjects that might happen to be in the general vicinity of our cameras… need I even go on? And if you don’t worry about it… well you’d better worry about it. I don’t wish to downplay the possibility of a legitimate threat on this particular story. What I wish to up-play is the fact that we can’t snapshot a timeless moment anymore, without the fear of consequences.
Because this is where we are.
But Bon, where on earth is this irony you speak of? You really mucked this title up – wayyy off!!
Here we go, folks. In between sessions of Mom rolling her eyes and speaking of Joe Pedophile staring at photos of her little girl – a lighter, more airy segment flashed up where us viewers got the chance to see submitted photos of the snow aired on tonight’s edition of the local news. How sweet and funny they were, too – most submitted anonymously. Anything from snowmen, to sledding, to children playing, to pets playing, to…. hey BACK UP just a minute. Did you just say children playing????
IMHO the persons behind each of these two segments had to be on two different wavelengths, in two different buildings. In two different cities. With no communication tools. Ahem, you get my drift. Speaking of drifts…
Just be careful where and what you point those cameras at.
A White Christmas for the southeast
Really, Charlotte… snow?? Yes!! We actually got our white Christmas after all!!
Imagine that.
According to National Weather Service statistics, the Charlotte area hasn’t seen the likes of a white Christmas in 63 years. Since the NTS doesn’t count anything below an inch on the ground Christmas day as a ‘white Christmas’, 1947 was the last recorded date of snowfall on Christmas – which totalled around 5.5 inches on that day.
- View from my third-floor treehouse this morning.
The forecast has made headlines for days now. Not just us, but many of the southeast area states of the US did in fact receive a packet or more of snowfall for Christmas this year. Our such packet didn’t arrive until after sunset last night, but it came nonetheless – and it’s still coming! Heck, it’s still snowing in Georgia this morning, and it was snowing in Myrtle Beach around 7am. It’s funny though… there doesn’t seem to be any bad roads out in the immediate vicinity. The accident rate is low so far, and the parking lots and roads look clear. It’s almost as though God brought us lovely snowfall that we can enjoy and get around well in. What a blessing!
- My balcony got a little snow as well. So far my geranium, fern and palm tree don’t mind a bit!
This morning I was reading the probability ratings for various cities across the US (as well as different parts of the world) on the ‘probability’ of snow on Christmas. I found it hilarious that Charlotte, NC ranks right alongside Los Angeles, CA and Phoenix, AZ – all three sporting a whopping 1% probability rating. I heart Wikipedia (umm, except for that leakage thing)… so go ahead, see if your city is on the list and what it ranks. Wiki factoids and probabilities for a White Christmas in your city
- Where I usually type my little blog… this morning I very much enjoyed a memorable wintry view.
It’s funny to see all the facebook statuses and pictures posted last night and into today from friends and family. The snow seems to have lifted spirits everywhere, especially households with small children who enjoy getting out and playing in it. Snow on Christmas has just put a whole different ‘air’ out, so to speak. Lighter, brighter and more joyful souls abound everywhere… dare I say, I can almost feel a renewed sense of hope for the new year to come? Whatever the case may be… it is very refreshing.
A Real Country Christmas
I received the below story via email this morning. The preface warned that the story was a little on the long side, and it is – but a great read nonetheless. I found the story not only moved me to tears, but more than worthy of posting as a blog subject. Hope you all enjoy.
Now this is what a country Christmas is all about…
Pa never had much compassion for the lazy or those who squandered their means and then never had enough for the necessities. But for those who were genuinely in need, his heart was as big as all outdoors. It was from him that I learned the greatest joy in life comes from giving, not from receiving.
It was Christmas Eve. I was fifteen years old and feeling like the world had caved in on me because there just hadn’t been enough money to buy me the rifle that I’d wanted for Christmas. We did the chores early that night for some reason. I just figured Pa wanted a little extra time so we could read in the Bible.
After supper was over I took my boots off and stretched out in front of the fireplace and waited for Pa to get down the old Bible. I was still feeling sorry for myself and, to be honest, I wasn’t in much of a mood to read Scriptures. But Pa didn’t get the Bible, instead he bundled up again and went outside. I couldn’t figure it out because we had already done all the chores. I didn’t worry about it long though, I was too busy wallowing in self-pity.
Soon Pa came back in. It was a cold clear night out and there was ice in his beard. “Come on, Matt,” he said. “Bundle up good, it’s cold out tonight.” I was really upset then. Not only wasn’t I getting the rifle for Christmas, now Pa was dragging me out in the cold, and for no earthly reason that I could see. We’d already done all the chores, and I couldn’t think of anything else that needed doing, especially not on a night like this. But I knew Pa was not very patient at one dragging one’s feet when he’d told them to do something, so I got up and put my boots back on and got my cap, coat, and mittens. Ma gave me a mysterious smile as I opened the door to leave the house. Something was up, but I didn’t know what.
Outside, I became even more dismayed. There in front of the house was the work team, already hitched to the big sled. Whatever it was we were going to do wasn’t going to be a short, quick, little job. I could tell. We never hitched up this sled unless we were going to haul a big load. Pa was already up on the seat, reins in hand. I reluctantly climbed up beside him. The cold was already biting at me. I wasn’t happy. When I was on, Pa pulled the sled around the house and stopped in front of the woodshed. He got off and I followed. “I think we’ll put on the high sideboards,” he said. “Here, help me.” The high sideboards! It had been a bigger job than I wanted to do with just the low sideboards on, but whatever it was we were going to do would be a lot bigger with the high side boards on.
After we had exchanged the sideboards, Pa went into the woodshed and came out with an armload of wood – the wood I’d spent all summer hauling down from the mountain, and then all fall sawing into blocks and splitting. What was he doing? Finally I asked. “Pa, what are you doing?” “You been by the Widow Jensen’s lately?” he asked. The Widow Jensen lived about two miles down the road. Her husband had died a year or so before and left her with three children, the oldest being eight. Sure, I’d been by, but so what? Yeah,” I said, “Why?”
“I rode by just today,” Pa said. “Little Jakey was out digging around in the woodpile trying to find a few chips. They’re out of wood, Matt.” That was all he said and then he turned and went back into the woodshed for another armload of wood. I followed him. We loaded the sled so high that I began to wonder if the horses would be able to pull it. Finally, Pa called a halt to our loading, then we went to the smoke house and Pa took down a big ham and a side of bacon. He handed them to me and told me to put them in the sled and wait. When he returned he was carrying a sack of flour over his right shoulder and a smaller sack of something in his left hand. “What’s in the little sack?” I asked. “Shoes, they’re out of shoes. Little Jakey just had gunny sacks wrapped around his feet when he was out in the woodpile this morning. I got the children a little candy too. It just wouldn’t be Christmas without a little candy.”
We rode the two miles to Widow Jensen’s pretty much in silence. I tried to think through what Pa was doing. We didn’t have much by worldly standards. Of course, we did have a big woodpile, though most of what was left now was still in the form of logs that I would have to saw into blocks and split before we could use it. We also had meat and flour, so we could spare that, but I knew we didn’t have any money, so why was Pa buying them shoes and candy? Really, why was he doing any of this? Widow Jensen had closer neighbors than us; it shouldn’t have been our concern.
We came in from the blind side of the Jensen house and unloaded the wood as quietly as possible, then we took the meat and flour and shoes to the door. We knocked. The door opened a crack and a timid voice said, “Who is it?”
“Lucas Miles, Ma’am, and my son, Matt, could we come in for a bit?” Widow Jensen opened the door and let us in. She had a blanket wrapped around her shoulders. The children were wrapped in another and were sitting in front of the fireplace by a very small fire that hardly gave off any heat at all. Widow Jensen fumbled with a match and finally lit the lamp.
“We brought you a few things, Ma’am,” Pa said and set down the sack of flour. I put the meat on the table. Then Pa handed her the sack that had the shoes in it. She opened it hesitantly and took the shoes out one pair at a time. There was a pair for her and one for each of the children – sturdy shoes, the best – shoes that would last. I watched her carefully. She bit her lower lip to keep it from trembling and then tears filled her eyes and started running down her cheeks. She looked up at Pa like she wanted to say something, but it wouldn’t come out.
“We brought a load of wood too, Ma’am,” Pa said. He turned to me and said, “Matt, go bring in enough to last awhile. Let’s get that fire up to size and heat this place up.” I wasn’t the same person when I went back out to bring in the wood. I had a big lump in my throat and as much as I hate to admit it, there were tears in my eyes too. In my mind I kept seeing those three kids huddled around the fireplace and their mother standing there with tears running down her cheeks with so much gratitude in her heart that she couldn’t speak. My heart swelled within me and a joy that I’d never known before filled my soul. I had given at Christmas many times before, but never when it had made so much difference. I could see we were literally saving the lives of these people.
I soon had the fire blazing and everyone’s spirits soared. The kids started giggling when Pa handed them each a piece of candy and Widow Jensen looked on with a smile that probably hadn’t crossed her face for a long time. She finally turned to us. “God bless you,” she said. “I know the Lord has sent you. The children and I have been praying that he would send one of his angels to spare us.”
In spite of myself, the lump returned to my throat and the tears welled up in my eyes again. I’d never thought of Pa in those exact terms before, but after Widow Jensen mentioned it I could see that it was probably true. I was sure that a better man than Pa had never walked the earth. I started remembering all the times he had gone out of his way for Ma and me, and many others. The list seemed endless as I thought on it.
Pa insisted that everyone try on the shoes before we left. I was amazed when they all fit and I wondered how he had known what sizes to get. Then I guessed that if he was on an errand for the Lord that the Lord would make sure he got the right sizes.
Tears were running down Widow Jensen’s face again when we stood up to leave. Pa took each of the kids in his big arms and gave them a hug. They clung to him and didn’t want us to go. I could see that they missed their Pa, and I was glad that I still had mine.
At the door Pa turned to Widow Jensen and said, “The Mrs. wanted me to invite you and the children over for Christmas dinner tomorrow. The turkey will be more than the three of us can eat, and a man can get cantankerous if he has to eat turkey for too many meals. We’ll be by to get you about eleven. It’ll be nice to have some little ones around again. Matt, here, hasn’t been little for quite a spell.” I was the youngest. My two brothers and two sisters had all married and had moved away.
Widow Jensen nodded and said, “Thank you, Brother Miles. I don’t have to say, May the Lord bless you; I know for certain that He will.”
Out on the sled I felt a warmth that came from deep within and I didn’t even notice the cold. When we had gone a ways, Pa turned to me and said, “Matt, I want you to know something. Your ma and me have been tucking a little money away here and there all year so we could buy that rifle for you, but we didn’t have quite enough. Then yesterday a man who owed me a little money from years back came by to make things square. Your ma and me were real excited, thinking that now we could get you that rifle, and I started into town this morning to do just that, but on the way I saw little Jakey out scratching in the woodpile with his feet wrapped in those gunny sacks and I knew what I had to do. Son, I spent the money for shoes and a little candy for those children. I hope you understand.”
I understood, and my eyes became wet with tears again. I understood very well, and I was so glad Pa had done it. Now the rifle seemed very low on my list of priorities. Pa had given me a lot more. He had given me the look on Widow Jensen’s face and the radiant smiles of her three children.
For the rest of my life, whenever I saw any of the Jensens, or split a block of wood, I remembered, and remembering brought back that same joy I felt riding home beside Pa that night. Pa had given me much more than a rifle that night, he had given me the best and most memorable Christmas of my life.
My wish for you all is to have a real country Christmas! It is, after all, what we do for others that makes CHRISTmas such a wonderful blessing…
Christmas Memories
I watched a special on 60 minutes Sunday night called ‘The Gift of Endless Memory’ detailing rare cases of persons that can literally remember every single day of their life since their memory started registering. The medical term given is Superior Autobiographical Memory. I, along with others who watched it, found the story fascinating.
My own memory is nothing of the sort, of course. That said, it is that time of year when certain memories of Christmases past will pop in and out, some being stronger than others.
Like my uncle giving me a pair of black patent leather lace-up boots, oh how I loved those boots – I was no more than five. Another Christmas and uncle presenting me with a stuffed dog that was just as tall as I was at the time. Riding in the cold on my new bicycle, complete with new front basket with faux flowers. Our dog Archie running wild through the house with a red bow on his head – on the one day a year that he was allowed inside briefly, Christmas Eve. Opening a gigantic box from Mom, thrilled to find it filled to the brim with new books. My cousins as babies, each sporting a little bald head at the time in their adorable Christmas outfits. My mammaw and our calico kitty, Skitz – her touching each of her paws and saying ‘you just don’t match’. Baby girl sitting in her little black corvette with an upside-down smile, frustrated with sidewalk driving at the early age of 3. Bountiful meals and family time at Nanny’s and Nana’s houses. Baby girl walking into a sliding glass door thinking it was open, landing her smack on the floor. Mammaw being barely able to breathe one Christmas eve with her refusing to go to the hospital. Opening a small box from ex-hubby containing my wedding rings he’d had reset, thinking I was the luckiest girl in the world. The smells of BBQ weenies and sausage balls wafting through the air. Years later, hanging with boyfriend’s family enjoying their hearty laughter. Helping baby girl decorate her Christmas tree at her first new apartment…
I look so very forward to the future, and making many more memories along the way. I wish the merriest of Christmas blessings for you all…
BP (no gas here)
Been feeling junky for the past few days, mainly my throat. Since I wanted to make sure I was well for Christmas I decided to pay a visit to the doc yesterday after work. I’m glad I did.
My blood pressure was once again off the charts, and it turns out it was high the last time I was there too. Yesterday it was 151/100, and I had been there for a while so it’s not like I’d just walked in out of a traffic jam. Stage 2 hypertension is not something I feel I should have since I’ve been managed by a beta blocker many years now, but I guess it happens. Sooo, now I get to be on two medicines for bp. I’m just glad it was caught.
My ever-wise daughter: “Oh my gosh, Mom! You have GOT to be more peaceful and calm down. You need to try some relaxation techniques. Meditate. It really does work! Just sit in candle light and do some really deep breathing for 10 minutes every night. You can’t keep being so wound up!”
I got a quick visual of myself getting stuck in a pretzel position, and it struck a funny bone in me. Then I got to thinking maybe she’s actually onto something. Honestly, I know she is. Stop being so wound up. Don’t sweat the petty things. Don’t pet the sweaty things. Yeah, that’s it! Here’s an old dog trying to learn a new trick again… I’ll be sure let ya know how that works out for me.
Cold
I honestly cannot think of anything this morning but how cold I am. It was 12º when I got up and it’s not expected to even reach freezing today. I’m starting to wonder if I really live in the Carolinas. I came (not so happily) bouncing into work sporting a newfound cold, twenty-plus layers and knockoff uggs. Today I came complete with Tussin CF®, Chloraseptic® and Afrin®. And hey, it’s warm in here! I am set.
Couldn’t miss today, anyway – the company Christmas luncheon is at noon. Oh, how wonderful it feels to say that word – Christmas! Christmas Christmas Christmas Christmas. Seems as though I’ve heard the word more this year than ever before, and I love it! So we’ll get catered in today (12 degrees this morning, good day for catering in, wouldn’t ya say?) by an awesome caterer, and enjoy some good team-building time. And errr, food. Did I mention the caterer was awesome?
So I gotta go there – my pet-peeve for the day/week. Yeah, we’ll make it for the week. How about those smartass know-it-alls in life? You know, those people who have the need to knock anything you say either down, top it with their own (new and improved) version, or generally insinuate a less than intelligent status on your part. Sometimes I grow weary of ‘petting’ them – of being nicey-nice in order to smooth things over when something is said that falls into the category of know-it-all. Of being ever-agreeable so as not to appear argumentative. I’d love to do a case-in-point, however that would pretty much lay everything out on the table and somehow I can’t bring myself to do that. Sometimes though, I wonder why I don’t just come right on out and say what I feel, and not worry so much about how it’s perceived. Once in a rare while I’ll turn those tables… and it actually feels good.
It’s becoming increasingly tougher to teach this old dog new tricks anyway.
Photo owned by Lord of the Rings® Trilogy, New Line Cinemas
Tricksters, tricksters!! They’re all tricksters… all of them!! 😆
Christmas, weekend and beach thinking
In reverse order.
The Christmas season has officially begun for most, but for some reason my mind seems to remain stuck on a warm, tropical setting. Instead of Christmas shopping this weekend, I’d rather be packing for a several-day stint at the beach for New Years. I can’t get it off my mind, and anxiously await the week before to at least see how the weather’s looking for the New Year.
I’m going to give my best attempt at finishing my Christmas shopping this weekend. I’m sure they’re will be a few extras to get next week, but even getting the majority done will be a huge relief. In the meantime, I’ll catch a few new oceanic documentaries that my love dvr’d recently for our viewing enjoyment. Uh-oh, here comes that tropical feeling creeping ’round again…
Picture source: http://www.layoutsparks.com
Life of Bon 
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