The Last Monday of the Year

All changes, even the most longed for, have their melancholy; for what we leave behind us is a part of ourselves; we must die to one life before we can enter another. ~Anatole Francela

I can’t say I’m happy or sad that 2009 is almost over. At least that’s what I thought this morning. My year wasn’t so bad I’m ready to flee it or so good I’d want to stay behind.

The idea of time running out is not half as important to me than what it is I’m to do with time. I’m not sure that I have much time to waste and that would include time to rest.

This is what I’ve decided to do today:

• Write.
• Go through my list of goals for 2009 and see what has been accomplished.
• Think about how many of my prayers have been answered this year.
• Write.

My first thoughts this morning were very simple. I’m not stressing over anything today.

Isn’t that a cool way to spend the last Monday of the year? Yeah, it is. It really is…

The Saturday After Christmas

No setting the alarm last night. I decided to wake up on my own and when I wanted to wake up. Instead of waking up at 5, I got up at 6 a.m. It was still dark outdoors.

I think best in the dark. No censors or thought pollutants so early in the morning. I always tell people that if I wake up with an idea or a solution, you better know it is genius. Divinely inspired genius.

Did you have a great Christmas? I did.

I woke up yesterday with the expectancy of a child. And I woke up the same way this morning.

Something special happens today.

I’m going to begin getting rid of excess and clutter. The useless stuff.

I’m going to finish some things I’ve started.

I don’t make New Year’s resolutions. I simply make room to do better, be better and live better.

Everyday.

Two Saturdays Before Christmas

Evidently, I’m not the only one who thinks an unmade bed is a work of art or should be. I searched through tons of photos to find the perfect one for today, and was amazed that there are a ton of photos of unmade beds.

I found myself wondering what went on in those beds overnight or during the day when they were used. Sex is too obvious of an answer. If you look at how the covers are strewn on this bed (a painting by Johanna Logan), you’d probably think what I thought. I believe this person hit the bed, fell asleep immediately and hard. Perhaps, they woke up energized and only pulled back the throw to put on their shoes as they sat on the bed. Or maybe it was a busy mom who smoothed out the covers to put her baby down after a bath.

So now you know how my head works on a Saturday morning.

Woke up grateful for many things. Today is Irene Lois James Doss’ 91st birthday. Today is my late grandmother’s birthday. I miss her but so much of her is with me. I think I love her more though she is gone.

She had fire in her soul. God knows I’m every bit as fiery.

Every bit.

And Irene Lois James Doss loved beautiful things…

So when I woke up I woke up grateful and thinking about her.

That’s enough thinking for today.

A Classic: Constant Comment Tea

I didn’t become a coffee drinker until 10 years ago. I managed to make it through college without becoming a close friend of the bean. However, I was a tea drinker and still love a great cup of tea.

My grandmother was a tea drinker and her favorite tea was Bigelow’s Constant Comment, which is flavored with orange rinds and sweet spices. This is the tea I credit for making it easy for me not to take sugar or sweetener in my teas. I love the flavor and the aroma is so wonderful, especially during the colder months.

Constant Comment is also available in decaf and with green tea. I’ll take the original.

My Favorite Christmas (Cake) Love Story

The Rum Cake

Christmas 1993

It was the first Christmas after my grandmother Irene’s death and my grandfather decorated the house much like she did. He put out the ornaments, no tree, but he made the house cheery and warm.

The holiday was solemn for me, I pushed myself to do things to make me feel better about her loss. Some very good friends invited me over and taught me how to make candies – chocolate covered pretzels, peppermint patties, peanut butter filled chocolate cups and more. I managed to have some fun but my worries were with my granddad, Charles.

He swore he was just fine. He even refused to listen to or receive sympathy from family and friends who didn’t want him to be sad. He’d change the subject and in my case, he just simply told me to stop worrying.

On Christmas Eve, a very quiet evening, the doorbell rang. Visitors weren’t expected, so my granddad approached the door cautiously. He peeked out of a corner of the living room window and muttered, “It’s one of those blasted women.” The blasted women were the widows, never marrieds and divorcees who started paying him a little too much attention after my grandmother’s death. They brought him food, offered everything from cooking to cleaning to, ahem, companionship. The “blasted” women irritated him. He said, “I had one wife for over fifty years, I don’t want another one.”

He opened the door and asked, “Can I help you?” The woman wasn’t anyone he knew.

She replied, “Mr. Doss?”

My granddad was street smart. He had to be in our inner-city neighborhood. He wasn’t going to identify himself without knowing who he was talking to. Plus, it was just plain bad manners in our household.

The woman introduced herself, though I don’t recall her name. And then she asked for my grandmother. “Is Mrs. Doss here?”

At that point, the only sign of his hurt and pain surfaced and he barked at her. “She’s dead. Who are you? What do you want with my wife?” He was so visibly jarred.

The poor woman gasped and begged his forgiveness. She didn’t know.

“I brought her cake, Mr. Doss.”

He asked, “What cake?”

“I baked your holiday cake last year and she told me you loved the rum cake, so I baked them for her this year,” she said.

Coming back to his senses, my granddad asked her how much he owed her for the cake.

“Nothing.”

Silence.

“Nothing,” he repeated. “I’ve got to pay you something.”

She passed him the cake and said, “Mrs. Doss paid for them last year, Mr. Doss.”

My granddad took the cake, thanked her and wished her a happy holiday. His eyes filled with tears and he took the cake out to the kitchen and displayed it on one of my grandmother’s covered cake plates. He wouldn’t share one morsel. That was his cake. That rum cake was my grandmother’s Christmas gift to him.

Create New Traditions (My Soapbox)

Some years ago, I couldn’t afford to fly home for Christmas on my meager earnings, and I wouldn’t let my grandparents foot the bill opting instead to stay in St. Louis and meeting up with them a couple of months later. I took a big girl pill and decided that I could afford to make Christmas special for me. So, I asked my grandparents to ship the little white tree I’d purchased from a department store selling its display ornaments and I decorated that tree with bows, candy canes and greeting cards. I baked cookies and breads (ginger, banana and spice) for visitors and to give as gifts. I had fun. One of my dearest friends invited me over to her mom’s house for dinner and I had the best time.

However, the best time I had was the time I decided to spend the day volunteering at a local mission. I was busy all day, ate with the guests and by the time I made it home I was exhausted. I was too exhausted to care about what I didn’t do or have. And I learned a valuable lesson.

We spend a lot of time focusing on preparation for a holiday that we fail to realize that as individuals we’ve chosen to believe that the holidays are to represent family, food and festivities. And that’s fine. But there are a lot of people who don’t have the means or who are depressed or who only view the holidays as valuable and needed time off.

To you and them I say reframe the holidays. Remove the pressure to have or to be or to go and just enjoy them in any manner you choose. For example, I don’t like hoopla or matchy-matchy, and I ‘m a relaxed holiday person. I choose on Christmas where I go and what I do. And there have been occasions when I do absolutely nothing except laugh at my feeble attempts at cooking in my shorts and a tee shirt. I’ll even go to the movies. If I sense that I’ll be even the slightest stressed on a holiday, I will rebel and shut it down.

My friends are pretty much the same way, which is why I love them. The Cousars of Phoenix know every brand of disposable cutlery and “china” on the market. Ilka makes nachos, wings and other finger foods on Christmas and we go to the movies if something good opens. And another friend hosts a casual open house on Christmas Eve, so she can sleep on Christmas Day.

Create your own traditions and don’t apologize if you can’t do the holidays like everyone else. Pity the rest of us who haven’t figured out that every day is a holiday or should be.

My Holiday Color Choices

I’m not a holiday fanatic but every year I choose a color scheme. Last year, I use periwinkle, white and navy with silver accents. This year I’ve found my inspiration right here on my blog. And yes, it’s snowing on my blog – a nice little WordPress feature.

I’m using orange (blog title), chartreuse (titles) and light blue (links) with accents of dark red (links) and silver. It sounds kind of yucky but I generally solidify my choices after I shop. I found plenty of things to meet that scheme from wrapping paper to ornaments to  home decor. (I’ll share some of my finds in later posts.) But, in the interim, look closely at these pics of doors, and tell me how you feel about the colors together.