NOT THE REAL THING

Sad.  Disappointed. Resigned.  No, I'm not still talking about the election (at least not in this post), I'm talking about purchasing our first artificial Christmas tree in our 44-year marriage.  We are Christmas tree traditionalists and we have scorned and mocked those who years ago "went artificial".  Nope!  We'd never!

Well...we did.

For 30 years we have gone to the same Christmas tree farm in the country to cut our own tree.  The farm was a 40-acre wood owned by a retired couple who grew the trees as a labor of love, enjoying the outdoors together and tending their crop of Nobles and Fraser Firs.  It was our family tradition to go the Saturday after Thanksgiving to tromp over wet or snowy or frozen ground to find "just the right tree". We usually ended up with the first one we saw closest to the truck, but we had to explore far and wide to be sure there were no others better.  After it was cut and hauled back to the truck, we made our way to the outdoor shelter where the owners had a roaring fire going and a kettle of hot cider ready to pour.  We'd sip our cider sitting on cedar logs while Hub paid for the tree -- $20.00 for any tree of any size.  We first went there when Son One was a year old.  Last year was our last trip, with both of our sons now grown with us and a daughter-in-law and two granddaughters in tow.  The owners told us then that it would be their last year.  They are in declining health (although still remarkably agile for being 90-someting!) and their children and grandchildren were not interested in opening the property for tree sales.  We assume one day it will all be sold to a developer and new houses will stand where the trees once grew; such is the way of progress.

Hub and I loved the family tradition of going there, but the "hassle-factor" of a real tree was also real. We said for the past number of years that when the tree farm closed, we wouldn't hunt for another (hating the commercialized "all-the-trees-in-straight-rows with a Santa and a mini-train and gift shop" type of tree farm that is so common.)  We said, "Maybe it will be time to get an artificial tree at some point."

So that's what we did this year.  A plastic tree in a box.  Hub bought it at Costco, brought it home and had it up in about 15 minutes, with LED lights pre-installed that you can set to being all white, all colors, or alternating between the two.   As the parts clicked into each other and the branches fell into perfect alignment, my heart started to sink.  This is NOT what a Christmas tree should do, look like, or smell like (nothing.)  I felt a big letdown and was very sad and started to complain....

Then Hub reminded me of his 44 years of Christmas tree experiences -- driving to the farm, finding a tree, cutting it down, hauling it to the truck, securing it either on top or in the bed; driving home and unloading it into a bucket of water on the patio, a week or so later retrieving it from the bucket that sometimes was frozen solid, so thawing it first; then carrying it up to the back deck and sawing the trunk off to the appropriate height, wrestling it into the house and through three rooms to the living room; setting it in the stand, getting it straight and positioned to best aesthetic effect; stringing the lights that only rarely cooperated by having weathered the attic still functioning -- full strings burned out for no reason, half strings lit, some lit, then going out once they were on the tree; shopping for and spending a fortune on guaranteed-to-stay-lit LED lights that I complained about to no end because I found them intense and "dead", not sparkly like tree lights should be; then putting water in the tree stand base, usually spilling it on the floor and having to wipe up the spills...then asking me daily if I remembered to water the tree (most of the time I did; not always.)  I joined in during the hanging of the ornaments and the daily pleasure of enjoying the magic of smelling a real tree in my house.  I guess I had the easier end of the 'real tree' deal.

So, this year we have a fake tree.  Son Two sent me a video on Facebook about the environmental damage of manufacturing, transporting, and disposing of plastic trees compared to real ones, which only made me feel worse (thanks, kid) considering our concern for climate change, but here we are anyway with a plastic tree in the living room.

Our choice of a real tree was often met with a quizzical expression by friends who found it to be rather strange to choose a tree with so many big spaces and goofy branches, but we loved our old Nobles and Frasers that allowed lots of room for our dangly ornaments collected over the years reflecting the interests and travels of each family member for that year.  Now there is no "dangling" space.   This tree is perfectly (traditionally) shaped and lit.  I've cut way back on my old ornaments and replaced them with others I can just shove in between the branches and let them rest there.  I use a remote control to switch the lighting between all white and colors, depending on my mood.  There is no spilled water on our newly refinished wood floors.

And here's the thing: I have a whole forest of fir trees on our property where I can cut greens for the mantel and table top.  I have a live holly tree to cut sprigs for decorating homemade swags. I will get some evergreen scent in my home.   Family will gather.  We will reminisce about the old tree farm.  Our sons will not love our tree (they found real ones at other places for their homes), but they will love us and all the rest of our traditions that are still firmly in place.  Christmas will happen.

And Hub will be happy when the tree comes down in three sections and back in the box instead of a messy haul-out through the house, down the stairs,  and a long drag to the brush pile at the back of our property.  And we won't have to vacuum up stray, stuck in the carpet, needles for weeks.

O!  Plastic Christmas Tree!  How lovely are thy branches....


At least, that's the view from here...

COME FROM AWAY...AND MORE.

Just thought I'd let you know how December is going so far.  I'm sure you've been curious about my vow to "chill".  So far, so good!

The tree is up and lit.  Ornaments will go on tomorrow.  A few table decorations made it out of the bins after all and I feel happy when I look at them.   Angel and I had a craft-making day on Saturday and cranked out some glittery stars and pipe cleaner/bead candy canes.  I play a couple of hours of Christmas music every day and burst into song all on my own on occasion -- mostly to entertain the granddaughters who seem to find my renditions either pleasing or hilarious.  Me too.

I've taken myself on a few easy, low-key outings.  The Assistance League, a do-gooder organization in town which runs a thrift store, manages estate sales, and provides clothing for low income school children, held a Home For the Holidays Home Tour fundraiser on Monday afternoon.  Being a weekday, most of the attendees were of retirement age and mostly female.  Like me.  It was fun to tour the six historic homes chosen for this year's tour and see them decked out in Christmas finery.  Talk about extravagant!  My practical side kicked in and wondered where they store all that stuff and how much work it must be to get it out, arranged, and put away again.  Also dusting...who dusts?   The tour seemed well-attended in spite of the downpour that day.  We all had to either remove shoes or put on those surgical bootie covers at each house.  That created quite the bottleneck at the entry, but people were of good cheer about it.   I went all by myself, something I rarely do, and had a great time going at my own pace, chatting and laughing with strangers, and seeing a few folks I haven't seen in years.   I enjoyed my own company and had a lovely, holiday-festive time!

On the way home, I stopped by a new coffee shop in town run by a local organization that provides housing, childcare, education, and job training for people who have experienced homelessness.  The coffee shop is their newest enterprise, attached to a vintage/antique retail store.  The proceeds help fund programs and clients work there learning retail job skills.  Starbucks coffee and a favorite local bakery provide the goodies.  I'll be back!

Yesterday was the annual neighborhood Ladies Holiday Tea.  It's a tradition dating back probably 30 years.  I have only gone a handful of times.  The whole "ladies" thing is not my thing.  I was always busy with meaningful work on "tea day" -- driving carpools, working PTA events, being involved in political campaigns, working full time, and just generally being all judge-y about "ladies who lunch". But this year, in my newfound desire to get out of my own way and just do things that sound like they might be enjoyable, with no highfaluting agenda attached,  I went.  Plus it was hosted by a woman right across the street who I like a lot, even though we are both introverts and rarely even talk in person. (We are email friends...weird, but it works for us.)  Well, it turned out to be a blast!  I thought I'd not know many women there, but I knew about half and it was great fun to catch up on neighborhood news, share some festive treats, and connect with others who have lived here for nearly as long as we have, as well as those who are new to the 'hood.  I realized that with 33 years at this address behind us, I am now one of the "old-timers".  Whew!  That's both hard to own and a source of pride.

Last night, was the topper:  A friend and I braved yet another torrential downpour to drive to Seattle to see a play.  We had to park a ways away since the Seattle Center garage was full (so many activities at the Center this time of year!) but that allowed us to see the grounds lit up for Christmas.  City Sidewalks...Busy Sidewalks...Dressed in Holiday Style...

The play was a lively and funny musical: "Come From Away" -- a Newfoundlander colloquialism meaning "not from here".   It was outstanding!  It's a story I knew nothing about.  On 9/11 US airspace was closed and flights from all over the world were diverted hither and yon.  One such place was Gander, Newfoundland, a burg of about 10,000 people on the North Atlantic coast.   On an average day their airport, mainly used by US military, sees 6-8 planes.  On that day, 38 jets landed, carrying nearly 7,000 passengers and crew members from all over the world!

The play is the story of some of those passengers and the residents of Gander who welcomed them with such compassion and caring and generosity, as these folks were grounded and far from home for five days before they could again fly on their way.  The townsfolk provided them with food, clothing, shelter (in their own homes in some cases), medicines, medical care...What an inspiring story!

"Come From Away" is all the rage right now in Seattle -- sold out audiences and extended runs.  Rumor has it, it will be Broadway bound --  a deserving kudo.  Last night was Canadian Night and the actual mayor of Gander was in the audience.  He received a standing ovation when introduced and he spoke briefly.  What a funny and warm, down-to-earth man!

People want to honor and embrace examples of kindness like demonstrated in Gander on that sad day in 2001, and what better season to remind ourselves that there are good people, (many... most, actually) in the world.   I'm still basking in delight and remembering, we've all "come from away" at one time or another.

At least, that's the view from here...©

PUT ON A HAPPY FACE

So, my BFF (and loyal blog reader/supporter) told me she looked back in this blog's archives.  (NOTE: Remember --there is now a subject index you can use to find posts related to various subjects (top left corner of any blog page; at least it shows up on my computer -- but not on my phone and I don't know why; different formatting for "mobile" sites?  I will never really understand this tech stuff...)

Anyhow...she went back in the archives and re-read some posts from last December and told me I really struggled with the holidays last year.  I haven't re-read them, but I believe her.  I struggle every year.  I both love and loathe this season of "joy", which is so often false, manufactured, forced, and too damn hard to sustain.  I have fleeting moments of joy.  The rest is a lot of work.

So this year I am determined to drop the quest for perfection, the almost OCD drive to create "holiday magic" for my family, and just "chill".  I may go all the way to ... dare I say it?  Selfish! I might actually sit down and decide what I want!

Decorating:  Hub put up some outdoor lights and garlands yesterday, but cut way back since squirrels decimated our lighting extravaganza last year (ate through the cords and ruined a King's Ransom in strings of lights!)  We hung a pretty wreath at the front door, which I love.  I have agreed to a Christmas tree.  I'm thinking that might be the extent of my decorating.  Hauling all those bins out of the attic and setting out a bunch of red/green/gold/silver hoo-hahs all over the house feels like a "should" and I already dread putting it all away.   I think I'll go out and cut some greens and holly and stick a votive amongst the foliage and call it good.  I might buy a poinsettia.

Gifting:  The granddaughters will make out just fine.  I'm focusing on educational, artistic, bookish gifts, but for our Angel I'd better throw in a Disney Princess of some kind.  The baby seems delighted with a set of measuring spoons.  Tee Hee.  The adults -- always a bit of a quandary, but have a few things stashed away in the attic and have a few more ideas.  It will be fine, except I wish all those years ago when I made big stockings to hang by the fireplace with care that I'd used a smaller pattern.  Filling those up is a challenge!

Cooking/Baking:  I suck at both of these and dread the very idea.  But I've been on Pinterest and have some new ideas for our Christmas Eve buffet so we'll see if I actually pull that off.   Christmas dinner is pretty easy -- ham for the fam and a bean burger for me.    Not gonna bake.  Will welcome any gifts of baked goods from friends and family. (Hint!)

Music:  I love Christmas music!  I grew up sharing TV Christmases with Andy Williams, Dean Martin, Lawrence Welk.... I just love those old renditions of holiday music and Christmas carols.  I've got it dialed in on the music channel on my DISH TV -- switching from contemporary to traditional.   Faves:  Silver Bells, Winter Wonderland, Let It Snow, Santa Baby, Silent Night.  Also the Mannheim Steamroller renditions of Christmas classics.

Outings:  I always think we should go into Seattle and do the city thing -- then I think of traffic and parking and crowds and rain; I generally talk myself out of it.  There are so many holiday shows and events to choose from I get a bit overwhelmed.  So, we're going to a Solstice Kirtan on my birthday.  Non-traditional, I know, but will be among friends and my spirit will soar with mantra.  I do hope to find a place to sing some carols at some point; might check out a church somewhere or a community sing thing.  Going to a couple of holiday parties; not hosting any this year, which cuts down the stress considerably.  Hosting means more decorating and more planning and more food prep, so we're taking a break.

Birthday:  Yep.  My birthday falls six days before Christmas, so there is an extra dose of festive in December for me.  I actually LOVE my birthday and I love celebrating it.  Hub and I always go away for a romantic weekend to our favorite little town on the Olympic Peninsula around mid-December; a friend is hosting a BD dinner for me (the milestone of turning 65 seemed to be an occasion for an extra fete), and the family will be by for BD brunch on the big day.   (Note: I do not allow anyone to wrap my gifts in Christmas paper.)

Do I sound curmudgeonly?  I actually don't feel that way.  I feel relieved.  I think I can actually pull this season off without sinking into December Depression if I can stay on top of keeping it simple, making decisions with thoughtfulness and intention, and quieting the "judge" who wants to scream "not good enough!" in my ear.   I'm going to put on a happy face and find gratitude in the little things that truly bring me joy.  Although, I admit, I'm currently working on the fact that the outdoor lights are not quite to my liking -- and parts of the deck garlands are already burned out -- that's totally not prefect from the get-go!   Even so, I hope to look back on this year's Christmas posts and say, "You did it!  You were merry!"

At least, that's the view from here....©

SCROOGE YOU, CHRISTMAS!

Oh, Christmas Season…you old foe.  I've largely given up the urge to run from adversity, having gained skill in "being with what is" and filling my emotional toolbox with a wide selection of just the right gadgets to get me through most anything, eventually.  But you….you….you still get to me.

One of my BFFs is jetting off to Kona this weekend for a month-long stay and I am still holding out hope she will kidnap me and make me go along.  And when I say "make me" I mean, my bag is packed.  But more likely I will be here for the duration of the Falalala-ing with December 26th circled in red on my calendar -- my favorite day of the time period from Thanksgiving to New Year's.  What some call a let-down, I call relief.

Relief from the traditions, expectations, "to-do" lists, socializing, shopping, wrapping, cooking, cleaning, cooking, cleaning, cooking, cleaning, cooking, cleaning, last minute shopping, lists, lists, lists, socializing, socializing, socializing, socializing….

I hear your advice, so don't even bother.  You would be amazed at how little I do for the season compared to when my kids were young and I ran around like a friggin' Martha Stewart clone.  To look at how I do the season now, comparatively, you'd think I was comatose.  Still…

I don't think it is entirely my own doing that causes me to fall into a Christmas Season funk.  I think it's the whole craziness that has grown up around it and this culture of commercialism that has influenced even the ways in which we think we are rebelling against it all.  As if the pressure weren't great enough to create a meaningful, festive holiday I now am asked to "walk my talk" at an even brisker pace.

The pressure to "shop local" means no gifts or gift cards from stores my family loves.  (I must have been a terrible mom to raise children to adulthood who go the mall for clothing -- where's your sewing machine???  And buy their lumber at Lowe's -- grow your own!!!)  No bulk items from Costco that would make food and drink more affordable (even if I only buy organic, free trade, uncaged cheesecake?).   No new Christmas music downloaded from I Tunes (get out the old clarinet; make your own music!), No new books (and every single other thing I can imagine) from Amazon  (Fine…I'll write a book and impose it upon my unsuspecting loved ones).   It's just a different version of the quest for perfection.

So, yeah.  I'd like to be sitting on a beach about now and on Christmas morning,  papaya juice running down my chin, Mai Tai in hand, I'd raise my glass to shield the sun.  My BFF and her hub would then serenade me on their dual ukeleles plunking out a little "Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas", as the waves kiss the shoreline.   Yep, that sounds about right.

At least, that's the view from here…. ©

CHRISTMAS RECAP

Well.  I'm glad that's over!  There is perhaps something a little wrong with me that I don't adore Christmas as much as I think I should.  I blame Hallmark.  And Andy Williams (my mom's fave).  And Lawrence Welk (my grandma's fave).  And all those "very special episodes" of my favorite TV shows growing up.  How can something real possibly live up to the fiction that was so firmly embedded in my developing psyche, watching all those shows as a kid and imagining on some level of fantastical thinking that I could re-create what was portrayed with soundstages and costuming and traditional carols sung by choirs and cheerful holiday tunes played with full orchestration -- or with accordians.  Oh, but I tried.  For years and years, I certainly tried.

Actually, this year I had a pretty good holiday season, if somewhat different than usual.  For one, I cut back on socializing.  I hosted one small afternoon party -- a "housewarming" for a few women to help a friend with gifts to set up a new apartment.  I said no to several invitations and events.  I stayed home a lot more than usual.  I bought fewer gifts and decorated less.  I was not stressed, overwhelmed, resentful or exhausted.  And by Christmas night I had this thought:  "That was really nice, but not as festive as usual."  Now what does THAT mean?  Do I equate "festive" with the craziness of bygone holidays?  If I am calm and and not swirling in chaos, have I let something slip by that I should have attended to in order for the holiday to be more magical?   We did all the usual family traditions and everyone seemed to be in good spirits.  What more could I have asked for?  I just need to adjust to a new normal -- myself at peace.  Who knew how weird that would feel?!?

One disappointment, however, is my willingness to finally admit (denied for years in the face of all good evidence to the contrary) that the tradition of sending Christmas cards in the mail is just about completely obsolete.  I have been a hold-out -- I send out abut 40 Christmas greetings every year.  Over the past 3 years those I've received number about 15-20.  I don't sent them to people who I see all the time -- mostly to distant family, old friends, or "locals" who I don't see as often as I used to, or those I do, but for some reason we always still exchange cards.   I am pretty tenacious about friendships and I am usually the last to let go.  And at Christmas time I get sentimental when I go through my old address book and recall the memories attached to those names.  I've sent out a family photo for 27 years (since Son-One was born) and for the past 10 years, I've also sent a Christmas letter (with a personalized handwritten note) -- some too long, I'm sure, and this year's but a few sentences.  I suppose some people have hated them -- they seem to be universally dissed.  But I actually LOVE receiving them myself.  I love hearing the highlights of family life--trips, travels, moves, jobs, etc.

This year I got about 15 cards, (some signed with no personal note,  just names), one letter, and three family photos.  Paltry.  So, maybe I need to wake up to the fact that this tradition is on life support. Choosing a card, making a photo, writing a letter, addressing and stamping and mailing...some say they don't have time for all of that.   I guess...but it makes me sad.  It is a gift I have loved both as a giver and as a receiver.  I sit and read each card over and over, enjoying the scene, the note, the photo (bonus!), the feeling of connection over the years and the miles.  But I'm drastically trimming my card list for next year; I'm starting to feel embarrassed.

The highlight, absolute and unforgettable was the Christmas Eve service at my church.   We are Unitarian Universalists, and Christmas is our most Christian celebration of the year.  We decorate and sing carols and wish each other a hearty "Merry Christmas!"  Extended families come to the service and this year my family took up a whole row!  My favorite moment was at the end of the service, the lights dimmed and each hand-held candle lit person-to-person as we sang Silent Night together.  Angel was sitting next to me.  She, at three, was "iffy" for holding that candle unaided (as she insisted), but she was oh so careful and sat very still and looked around her with such wonder and delight.  I glanced left toward Hub to try to catch his eye at the end of the row, but he was staring straight ahead, no doubt lost in his own Christmas Eve memories and experiences.  I glanced the other way to the other end of the row and saw Son Two, Son One, and Future Daughter In Law all grinning ear to ear as they watched Angel with her candle in the dim light.  We smiled at each other and my eyes welled with tears of utter joy.  My family, on Christmas Eve, passing on the traditions that bind us together, through some years of chaos and some years of peace.

At least that's the view from here...©

LET IT SNOW?

It's 6 a.m. and there's a dusting of snow on the ground.  I'm a little annoyed.  I have a coffee date this morning with one of my gal-pals and a haircut appointment this afternoon.  I drive a Prius...not known for great handling in snowy conditions.  And I live at the top of a hill in the Pacific Northwest....not known for timely, or even adequate, snow removal.

Around here a dusting of snow gets everybody all worked up.  There was a huge headline in this morning's paper just to announce the possibility of snow in the lowlands (anywhere not in the mountains, where it belongs).  We have a love/hate relationship with snow where I live.  Skiiers, snowboarders, and snowshoers pour over snow reports daily (hourly!), trying to time the best 'powder' at the resorts.  On snowy days, the rest of us just try to guess whether we will make it to work and back.  Or to the grocery store, where we need to stock up on supplies in case we can't get out again for a day or so.  And no one really knows how to drive in the snow here.  It's bumper car time.

I used to find all of this laughable.  Hello!  I grew up in northern Illinois.  Snow falling and snow plowing went hand-in-hand.  Salt trucks dumped de-icer in quantities huge enough to immediately turn snow and ice into slush to be scooped away by the plows.   Of course there were times when the snow fell so fast and so heavy and so thick that things sort of came to a standstill there too -- but we are talking like 6-12-18-24 inches of snow, not one inch, which is all it takes to cancel schools and panic people here.

I moved from the Chicago area in 1980, first to South Carolina and the relative balmy Christmases of sunshine and beach walks; then moved here to the damp, drizzly, and green, green, green Christmases of the Evergreen State.  I still miss a white Christmas season, so if it's going to snow, this would be the week to do it.

As long as it doesn't interfere with my holiday haircut.

At least, that's the view from here....©

"SUFFER THE LITTLE CHILDREN TO COME UNTO ME..."

Here we are, right in the middle of the fa-la-la-la-la Christmas season, caught up in shopping, baking, decorating, planning, organizing, socializing....a time when our hearts sometimes have a hard time finding "Christmas Spirit" amidst the "to do" lists that this holiday has become.  And then an act so unspeakable and at odds with the season of peace and love shakes us to the core and focuses our attention away from ourselves and our petty troubles.

On Friday, a crisp blue sky day in Newtown, Connecticut, a troubled young man, carrying at least two rapid-fire weapons, entered Sandy Hook Elementary School and started shooting.  Within only a couple of minutes, 6 adults and 20 children, between the ages of 5-10, were dead, as was the shooter, who took his own life.

Facts are slowly emerging of acts of heroism by teachers and school staff, whose first thoughts were to keep their students safe.  Facts are slowly emerging about the perpetrator, who had also killed his mother in their home before descending upon the school, who seems to have suffered his whole life with significant mental health issues; as we so often hear, he was intellectually brilliant but socially withdrawn, even pathologically "shy" and reclusive; a loner.

My first thought, as is my first thought every time there is an eruption of gun violence (which is frequent), is that troubled people with access to guns leave more carnage in their wakes than those who do not have a readily available gun.  I am an unequivocal proponent of gun control.   Within hours of the shooting, I re-joined the Brady Campaign to End Gun Violence and wrote to my Senators and Congressman.  I might finally be giving in to my frequent impulse to "get involved" in an issue or cause again.  I've always known this would be the one.  For me, it's the only action I can take to try to mediate the overwhelming sadness and frustration I feel when something like this happens, something I believe could be prevented.

But right now, I don't have any energy for "organizing".   Instead, I am reminded of a saying that comforts me:  "We are spiritual beings having a human experience."  Humans are flawed, vulnerable, confused, loving, compassionate, violent, crazy, amazing creatures.  So, my energy is going into creating havens of peace for the human experiences in my little world. My energy is going into advocating for "radical kindness" within myself and others I know.  My meditation practice teaches me to "stay in the moment", to be aware of the vast cosmic consciousness that exists in and around us, connecting us all, and that the only answer to the troubles of the human experience is to be kind, to love, to act with compassion.

There is a meditation in the Tibetan tradition called Tonglen, where one invites on the in-breath the suffering of another into our consciousness and on the out-breath sends out love, peace, and healing to that person.  I have been practicing this meditation since Friday, both in sitting silently and at random times during the day when I am going about my life's busy-ness.   Meeting violent, unspeakable acts with compassion for those impacted (which on one level is all of us) is the only response I know right now.

For Christians, this is the season celebrating Jesus' birth.  He was an example of love and acceptance and also acted to upset the status quo.  His example might be one we can  emulate in the days and months ahead, beginning as we gather around our Christmas trees holding those we love with special care.

So, my prayer is this:  May all those little children and the adults who gave their lives for them, the families left to mourn, and the person who fired the gun, all find peace in the compassionate, loving presence of Divine Consciousness.

At least, that's the view from here....©

MAKIN' A LIST...

I guess the obvious theme of this month's posts will be "Christmas/Holidays".  Today's topic, Dear Readers, is my continuing attempt to create some modicum of magic...with lowered standards.

But here's the thing.  So far my decorating consists of a kitchen countertop covered with scraps of paper upon which I've started various lists:  gifts to buy, groceries to shop for and prep, guests to invite, cleaning to do,  RSVPs that need a response.... And there are duplicates, naturally, of lists I started and lost and re-wrote...

Without my lists, I would get nothing done.  But today I feel like the ONLY thing I am doing is writing more lists!  This is the point where my inner Scrooge is screaming, "IT'S NOT WORTH IT!"

Yesterday I had a long talk with Hub about this annual struggle of mine.  He pointed out that, while he didn't love being out in the rain and the wind stringing festive holiday lights on the bushes and house, he just kept visualizing how great it would look when he was done.  He said I get stuck in the "hassle-factor" processes of things and lose sight of the goal.

Bingo!  I've never been much of a goal-setter.  I react more often than act...at least in some places in my life.  I have a vague notion of an end result of some endeavor, fantasizing a soft focus magical feat of perfection, but to back up and  figure out how to make that happen, then do all the work required (some of it no fun!), and know it will NOT be perfect, I just conclude, "Not worth it!"

Writing this sort of stuns me.  I am known as a pretty organized and responsible person.  I take leadership in lots of things.  One might mistake me for being mature.  But what I wrote in the previous paragraph is anything but.  It's lazy, whiny, and damned immature, in my judgment ... and I am EXCELLENT at judging myself!

So, now I am making a list of all the events (goals) of the coming weeks:  Parties to host and to attend, dinner out with friends, family birthday party (mine!), Christmas Eve/Christmas Day family festivities, church services and emcee-ing a retirement program for our minister.  All of them are going to require planning, purchasing, organizing, and prepping in a myriad of ways.

But I will keep my eyes on the "prize" of being there, with family and friends, the work of it all behind me.   And once at my goal, I will be present with what is....not critiquing the imperfection of the end result, but appreciating the perfection of being blessed enough to have such an abundance of love and connection in my life.

Something to add to the Gratitude List.

At least, that's the view from here...©

CHRISTMAS FAIL

I am already thinking this post should probably be in my personal pity-party journal, rather than here to be endured by my readers.  But since this blog is about honesty and maybe validating the thoughts and feelings of others, here goes:

I am a failure at Christmas.  Take this morning.  Hub headed up to the mountain for a day of snowboarding.  I pretended I was going to clean the house. (He should have seen through that).  But, no!  Sneaky girl that I am, I saw it as a day to go out there and do some Christmas gift shopping!  I had a couple of ideas in mind, a couple of little things for Hub, as well as this's and thats for the rest of the clan.   I brushed my hair out of my face, put on a cute little outfit and sensible shoes and timed my drive to the "big mall" 20 minutes south of where I live to arrive not long after opening so I could park within 1/2 mile of the entrance.  It went swimmingly.

Then I went directly to the store where I just knew I'd have success with the items for Hub.  That's where it went wrong.  (I can't be specific here, cuz Hub reads this blog regularly, bless his heart -- "Hub, close your eyes!")   The items in question are not exotic; they should have had them.  The first, nada.  The second, a dumb and crazy-expensive version of what I wanted.  And the clerk was rude, so I left...right after purchasing the cute, cuddly jacket for myself which I found on the sale rack.  And a pair of gloves I've been wanting.  The dress didn't fit, so I vowed again to cut back on sweets and to hop on the treadmill when I got home.

I was a little flustered with my lack of success at what was supposed to be the easy part of this shopping expedition.  I got outside that store and started heading to the department store across the mall to shop for others, and with each step, visualizing that huge store, my unfamiliarity with where things were there, the plethora of overwhelming choices I would face....my steps slowed.  I stopped, closing my eyes as happy shoppers streamed around me, and decided I just couldn't do it.  I did an about-face and headed for the parking lot.

By the time I got back to my town I had thoroughly chastised myself for wimping out.  I decided to give it another go at a smaller version of the same store north of my town.   (Yes, that's a lot of miles, gas, time....Shush!)  But first I had to do something, I don't know, comforting.  Hello Starbucks!  (Forgetting that lose weight vow of only 20 minutes earlier).  Eggnog Latte and Cranberry Bliss Bar in hand I was back in the car and heading north....for 2 blocks.  Again, the store loomed in my imagination, parking, going in, choices, indecision, expense....grrr...I turned and headed home, kicking myself for not being more creative about gift-planning the other 11 months of the year.

That's where I go wrong.  I detest shopping in general.  I'm OK at specific things at specific stores, but to "go shopping" just for fun, or "nose around" for no particular reason, or "I'll find something eventually" adventures do not appeal to me.  So every December I am in this same predicament.  I didn't plan ahead, I didn't "craft" anything appropriate, any imagination or brilliance I might have had, say, in July is now as soggy and wet and inhospitable as this morning's weather.

Oh, I'll figure it out and pull it together.  I always do.  But I am not a fan of the season.  I think it's because, like with so many things as I look back, I did not pace myself.  I used to be really good at this. I was the friggin' Christmas Fairy around here, creating holiday magic and rituals and traditions, as if my children's childhoods would be bereft without them.  Then they grew up and I grew tired.

Yes, I know it's not about gifts.  But I don't even feel like decorating this year.  I'm slowly turning into the biggest Scrooge ever, if scored on the "Outward Displays of Christmas Spirit" scale.

What I want and what I will get, for sure, (gifts or not, decor or not) is... time with my beautiful family, a fire in the fireplace, yummy food, board games, jigsaw puzzles, holiday music, special gatherings and services at my church, parties with friends....

As for something to open on Christmas morning, I wish I could just wrap my heart, so full of love and devotion and pride and compassion, and offer it to everyone I care about as a talisman to keep them safe, content, and in love with life forever.  That's what I wish.  No shopping required.

At least, that's the view from here....©