Christmas: It's All About Family

This has always been a magical time of year for me, I have many warm and fuzzy memories of Christmas. When I was 6 or so, we made a trip to southern California to celebrate Christmas at my dad's parents home. Out of the 53 Christmases I have seen so far, this is one of the most memorable. This is when I first believed Christmas really did come from heaven...

It stands illuminated in that darkened living room like a photograph smudged with vaseline. Most likely it was grandma who had preciously perched an ethereal white and flowing angel on the tree top. I don't remember specifics but I do remember that it seemed lifelike and loving to this little kid staring up at it. There was a soft glow of twinkling lights, way back then everybody used those big bulbs which literally engulfed whatever tree they were wrapped about. There were strings of lights that had these tubes of bubbling colored water where you would normally see just a bulb, those were my favorites. I could watch those for hours, some green, some red and some yellow. I always wondered where the water came from. There were lots and lots of multi-glittered fragile bulbs, you 'old' people will remember those; one side would be concave with a special glittery design, they were often tear-drop shaped or round. The lights would bounce off of them and triple the effect and if the tree had tinsel hanging from the branches--and NOT thrown on in clumps but carefully placed one by one--that tree would boggle the eyes and mind of any youngster. There was no tinsel on grandma's tree because it was draped with angel hair! Angel hair?! Oh grandma, this is really so beautiful, you must be special to have an angel give you her hair! I don't remember my grandmothers' house or any of the presents or much of anything else that visit, but that tree is as vivid in my mind today as it was when I first saw it. It still feels like magic.
Our celebrations also involved a traditional Christmas drive before opening presents. We always opened ours on Christmas Eve but we had to take a drive to see everyone elses' lights and decorations so Santa could stop by our house while we were gone. One yard had a small train set up on a railroad and the best part was seeing the lights on in the cars with people sitting in the seats and the conductor striding down the center collecting tickets, the train making it's circular trip around the front yard every minute or two. No, the people weren't real and they were most likely only about 2 feet tall. But I thought they were real.
Christmas is remembering my family, my loved ones, whatever family I have left and around me, grandparents and cookies and presents and snow and the smell of a pine tree in your house. I have had a few Christmases that were more about treasuring those who could be with you. The real test of what I believe this is all about. The possibility of losing your child or any member of your family puts things into perspective. That Christmas was the most special of all. I don't remember if there were presents now because the most important thing was knowing that at that time my little family would be there. We simply celebrated life and blessings.
This Christmas will be special because I get to live it through a child's eyes again. My daughter and son-in-law and their two boys will be sharing Christmas with this grandma for the first time. I can't wait to see Evan's little face when he comes to grandma and grandpa's house. I don't have angel hair on my tree (it's way too messy for a grown-up) but we do have an angel on the tree top and lots of lights and fun ornaments to explore. And whether or not there are two or twenty presents under the tree, my present will be my husband, my daughter and son-in-law and the grandbabies! Maybe next year my son can come. Maybe one year we can all share a special memory.
This is also my time to celebrate the reason for Christmas, my saviour's birthday and what that means to me....

Lucy and Ricky Go On A Picnic

It may be fall, it may be chilly out but it is still a great time to go on a picnic. Since Kevin and I both work with the public, getting out in the hills and enjoying nature is our mental refresher and since the wilderness is practically in our backyard, it doesn't take much to get there.

Unless you take me along.

I had Sunday and Monday off so Kevin and I went into the hills for a ride and a tailgate picnic. Sunday was actually quite beautiful out, the weatherman had predicted a snowstorm for the weekend but he was a bit early on that guess.

Getting to our destination would normally take about a half an hour and as we were heading westward, thoughts of hot chocolate with soft, bobbing marshmallows and roasted hot dogs danced through my head. We hadn't managed to squeeze in a camping trip last summer due to other pressing needs so this was as close to camping as I was going to get, until next year. In my mind I could feel the sunshine on my face, I feel the crunch of that hot, campy-tasting hot dog....HOT DOGS!!!! "Oh my gosh, Kevin, I forgot the HOT
DOGS!!". Kevin kept on driving, never changing the expression on his face, not a peep, not a word except for a simple clearing of the throat. I sheepishly pulled my coat up from my knees and tried to cover my face, maybe I could just disappear. This whole adventure centered on my wish to go out and have a tailgate picnic, those hot dogs being the main reason for going.

Finally, Kevin looked over at me after I had squeeked in a teeny-tiny voice, another "ican'tbelieveIdidthat", "Do we have to have hot dogs? We have the marshmallows, you know, and we could probably find some grubs or worms or something..?" Of course I replied with, "Honey, this whole picnic was all about having those hot dogs and all I'm gonna think about is NOT having those hot dogs". Kevin drove on and soon we turned into Twin Lakes Resort. Oh you sweetheart! You're going to stop and get my hot dogs at the little store there. The parking lot was empty, the sport shop was all locked up and dark and the sign at the gate said the store was closed.

My dear and darling knight in shining armor said, "Well, we'll just go back down the road a bit and stop at the little quick mart". You know the kind, the last stop store that charges a house payment for a gallon of milk.

In a twenty minute turnaround, I had my hot dogs. I was a happy camper.

And no grubs.

We enjoyed a leisurely drive up the mountain side, some leftover snow from the last storm blanketed the north and west sides, white fir branches bowed to the ground, loaded with the white powder. Sunlight streaked through stands of an old forest fire and a Stellars' jay whizzed past my window. At the crest of one winding dirt road we could look back over Wickiup Reservoir off to the southeast, there was lots of room to get out and explore while sitting in the sun so we parked the truck there.

We wandered through the manzanita brush, savoring the fresh air full of ponderosa, white fir, noble fir and manzanita. Kevin and I both jumped out, each of us wandering off in a different direction just to enjoy a few moments of peace alone. I was hunting for some manzanita branches

for the house to decorate with, I brought home a dead one. Okay, it's going to be spray painted white for Christmas ornaments or something. A few minutes later we pulled down the tailgate, Kevin pumped up the camp stove and fixed up two steaming cups of hot chocolate, with bobbing marshmallows and my fantasy hot dogs soon followed. Shortly after that we put everything away and ambled back down the mountain.

And then! I spied this rock that looked like the Washington monument. We brought that home, too. But it took Kevin hooking up the winch to yank it out of the ground. Poor Kevin, most men get wives who shop till they drop. Kevin gets one who brings all the outdoors back home, lol!

Evan Makes The Call

When you think about it, toddlers have a lot going on in their lives. Find Teddy, oh there's that bottle I lost yesterday, I must find mommy since she's totally out of site and, oh yes, call Grandma! Okay, well I have Teddy, mommy is changing my little brother Erics' diaper or something so...THERE'S the phone. All alone on the couch. No guardians, no "no-no's". The coast is clear...

ringggggringringringggggg, the cell phone buzzes, hidden somewhere still in my lunch bag or purse. I'm on the computer sharing emails with Sara about ebay and I run out of the office to find that teeny-tiny connection to the world and just before it relays to missed call, I catch it and connect. After my initial hello there is a small "hi" from the other end, then an indecipherable amount of babble. Instantly I recognize that angelic voice, it is my grandson. Grandma's FIRST phone call from my favorite Evan!! (yes, yes, I know, he's the ONLY Evan; this is a carry-over from my dad always telling me I was his favorite daughter *only daughter*). In the matter of just a few seconds I had figured that mommy had been distracted by something and Curious George got ahold of that interesting thing that mommy is always putting to her head with a "hello" right afterwards. Evan is a literal button-pusher. He loves the sounds they make and can spend long minutes just pushing and pushing and pushing, absolutely fascinated with something we have long ago gone blind to. I'm pretty convinced he was fortunate enough to hit the redial button on the first try and lo and behold, he got Grandma! Wow, how cool is that? After a few hellos from me I began to hear other noises, house noises, brushing, clicking, more button pushing but no more precious 'hi's'. I was attempting to get Evan's attention by talking loudly, asking for momma, loudly calling "Sara? Sara! Your son is on the phone!" One minute...two minutes go by and my cell phone minutes are adding up as well. Since Sara and I were emailing each other I fired of a letter telling her her son was calling Grandma, lol! One letter, two letters, then I call her cell phone, no answer so I leave a message. Finally an envelope appears on my computer screen and it's from Sara, "Oh Evan found the phone and took it in his room and was playing", hence the odd noises I heard.

I can't get a real-life picture of that little rascal but I can cherish that moment from here forever.

How accidentally sweet and precious. Not everyone gets a once in a lifetime call from their 15 month old grandchild. All on their own.

(:

A "Big Girls" night out

We all wonder what our children are going to be like when they grow up.
We look forward to having wonderful relationships with our kids and I can now say that I am reaping the benefits of an adult child! It has been about a year and a half since Sara and I were able to have our own "mother and daughter" time so Saturday we had our first girls' night out. Sara had planned on dinner and a play, a real live play. Now, I have one under my belt since I saw The Jersey Boys in San Francisco with my childhood girlfriends last September, but Sara has never seen one. We decided we would also have dinner out at a nice seafood restaurant. She didn't have to cut meat for anyone and me? Well...I didn't either (: As a small celebration, we both ordered a strawberry marguerita. Our mouths were watering for that long before they arrived. Several minutes of talk about anything besides bottles and diapers was refreshing. We talked about what we thought the show would be like and how nice it was to be "just us girls".
We had manners; there wasn't one single belch at the table, we were so cool. The margueritas arrived and since Sara had been 'dry' for a year, I proposed a toast to us and our evening. Hey, this tastes great but, where's the salt?? There was no salt on my marguerita! Out of the mouth of my babe, "Mom, it's a bit late to dip it now", I could see the giggle on her face.
Oh what the heck, it still tastes pretty good. Then came the meal! An appetizer of bruschetta with crab and artichoke dip, oh now that was heaven, we should have just ordered appetizers for our dinner!! We both decided on steak and grilled shrimp; we were splurging but not clogging our arteries entirely, oh and salad, of course. We had so much fun talking and relaxing and eating that we didn't have time for dessert, which is okay in our world at the moment.

So, Sara and I went to see "The Vagina Monologues". Now, if you know me, I would have been thrilled with "Bees", "Happy Feet", etc. But, this?? with my 26 year old daughter??? Okay, I guess we have to grow up sometime. I had heard the name of the play before but I really had no idea what it was all about. Women. Something female and guys wouldn't like it, it was a smash on Broadway and that was the extent of my play information. Very very different, but this was our 'big girls' night out. Still, it was nice to see Sara dressed up, arms free and with no crying weaved inbetween our conversations.
A week ago we both had bought some new shoes, Sara's husband calls mine "hooker shoes".
Pointy toes, spike high heels, I was going to be dressed up somewhere, sometime. Sara said, "Wow, mom, never thought I'd see you wear those!". Well....I wore them Saturday night, out to "the city", nothing was going to be too good for our Big Girl Night. I found a parking spot within a few hundred yards of the theatre's entrance, good for our feet because the both of us lasted about ten feet before I had already caught the heel in a hole in the cobblestone street, passersby were hearing,"Ooooo! Ouch-ouch-ouch! Ooooo rghhhhgghhr, ouch!" Remember all those old movies where you'd see men dressed up like women and they would totter around in those heels? I always thought that was a bit dramatic until I had to walk in them. Maybe I'll stick a hook in them and hang them on the Christmas tree or something. I would absolutely believe these were somthing that the Marquis de Sade invented! Hooker shoes after all, lol!

We arrived at the Tower Theatre down there in Bend, hundreds upon hundreds of women. I have never been around that many women before, never! It was truly like being in a henhouse, all that high-pitched chirping! Sara and I were just inside the door to show our paper ticket when I heard a male voice behind me, "I see some other men in there...". This had to be the first time in my life I have ever heard a man showing his insecurity in public like that, and within earshot of all that femaleness. I'm sure it was a real slip and spoken before he could catch those words. Yes, there were a few men there. Probably ten! I discovered that my fascination with the whole event was the true people-watching!! And listening to the snippets of conversation, the laughter, the giggles. There was a group of 30-something gals sitting in front of us doing their visiting when two women acquaintances of theirs leaned over to speak to them (we were in aisle seats in the rear) when a part of the conversation grabbed my attention. This one lady was speaking about having "big girl drinks", I didn't hear the rest of the line because I leaned over to Sara and whispered, "What's a 'big girl' drink?" She shrugged her shoulders, she didn't know either, but I loved the speakers' line and hooked it onto mine and Sara's evening. Big Girls. This was our big girls' night and we had a big girls' drink, ya think?

Only in a place where women are gathered would they have a buffet table set up with cookies, brownies, candies and coffee. In a theatre, downtown. It was kind of warm and close, actually.
I won't go into the play, that can be seen online somewhere. It was the act of going and being that was fun and worth talking about, lol!
The poor gal who sat next to Sara and I must have gotten up 10 to 15 times. But then, she was a rather big woman and she did stretch her long legs out into the aisle which was much more comfortable than being scrunched up in our seats. I will remember that for the next time.
I took Sara home and made sure she got in her front door okay, everyone else was in bed and I drove home with a big girl smile on my face...

How to or not to fight nature...

A few years ago when I lived in Alaska, many conversations included the lamenting of moose, moose were everywhere. Moose in the yard, moose in the garbage, moose at the front door and moose in the garden. So often the basis of that conversation circled around keeping the moose out of the garden and away from all the precious plants, or just plain out. Most of these people were what we called "outsiders", most of them were relatively new to the area so after building their new home (more builders than buyers) and spending umpteen hundreds or thousands of dollars on landscaping they began to discover that all of their hard work and creativity simply attracted the huge omnivores. Many were the times when "momma" would run outside with a broom and a blanket, screaming and yelling and waving like a crazed banshee when she spied an eight foot tall moose eating one of her prized raspberry bushes or precious flowers. After awhile, many of these had-been nature lovers turned into livid wildlife haters. I used to think it was rather odd to hear the venom in these otherwise calm humans when it came to discussing ways to rid the neighborhoods of these really beautiful creatures. How is it that we can move into anothers' habitat, encroach upon THEIR home and range and WE complain about THEM? Yes, I used to think that way until......I moved onto a nice little wooded acre in a rural area that is and always has been in the middle of a natural corridor for...deer. Oh you know, Bambi's family! How graceful they are, how wonderful it is to view wildlife in your own front yard. Until...they ate my very first rose bush. Oh my gosh, the first time I cussed out a quadrapod-lawnmower, I saw myself as one of those banshee mamas running out in my bathrobe at 6:00 a.m. with whatever I could grab ahold of; broom, couch pillow, husband's hardhat, to throw at those 'lovely creatures'. Wow...I am one of THEM, I thought. I need to find a way to better handle this, to live side-by-side with my friends in the field and still have some of those other human enjoyments.
Over this past summer I have attempted several different methods of warfare which included garlic pinecone 'bombs', hanging human hair out in nets, wire fencing and ultimately covering certain bushes with anything I could find. I learned quickly that I could only cover so many plants and after a few days my garlic bombs had lost their effect and making them was just as distasteful and stinky to me as it was to my intended combatants, especially after it rained.
I am learning to live with my furry friends and even re-appreciate their visits to my acreage. I have also learned to plant things that grow naturally around here in my new Oregon home, many items that grow aplenty and quite a few that the deer don't bother. I am finding my harmony and enjoying both worlds.
Now...if I could just figure out how to get the squirrels to stop debarking all the trees....