Our Senior in college and soon to be Second Lieutenant did not show much interest in helping his old mom decorate the tree this year, but he asked me this morning if I had noticed what he had done to the tree. For years now, the Christmas angel has done her job solo holding the little Christmas light that is somehow connected to the red lights in the whole string. This morning, Woody, from Toy Story has his arm around her shoulders. I guess his relationship with Bo Peep did not work out.
Senior in college sure would like an angel of his own. He would love to start the adventure of life in the Army with an Army bride at his side.
Wednesday, December 12, 2007
Tuesday, December 11, 2007
Texas weather
It is hot. It is cold. We are sweating. Now we are freezing. We open the windows. Now its time to close them. Whew. If it was up to me, August would be temps in the eighties and nineties, then September in the seventies, October in the sixties, and November in the fifties. A gradual slide into winter. But, no, we saw eighty and used the AC on Friday and Saturday. Then a cold front blew through...and we had to use the furnace and electric blanket.
Poor Oklahoma, Kansas and Missouri---two inches of ice. Yikes. Over twelve deaths...what a horrid Christmas holiday for those families. Global warming is a joke.
The grass seed is sprouting. Here in Texas we scatter rye seed for green lawns in winter.
Poor Oklahoma, Kansas and Missouri---two inches of ice. Yikes. Over twelve deaths...what a horrid Christmas holiday for those families. Global warming is a joke.
The grass seed is sprouting. Here in Texas we scatter rye seed for green lawns in winter.
Saturday, December 8, 2007
Christmas Cookies
I have a vivid childhood memories of making Christmas cookies with my Mom. We lived in Rochester, Illinois from the time I was kindergarten until mid-way through 4th grade. It was a rambling, old house on Main street. I remember it as having a rather large kitchen where we stood on a stool or chair to help wash dishes. My Mom painted the kitchen ceiling bright red. The ceilings were probably fourteen foot ceilings. And I remember sliding around the wooden floors in our socks.
I remember my Mom making Christmas cookies one year. It was such a big production that the cookie dough and shaping was done in the kitchen, and the warm cookies were dried in the dining room and iced there. I have my Mom's stained recipe for those cookies made with eggs, sugar, butter, and sour cream. Mom credits Mary Ann as the one who gave her the recipe. The recipe calls for five cups of flour. The instructions are simple: roll out. 375 degrees, 15 minutes.
I remember star shaped cookie cutters, and reindeer shapes. I am sure we got more flour all over the kitchen than in the cookies. Mom rolled the cookies thin, and the icing was made with confectioner's powdered sugar and milk and food coloring.
Thanks, Mom for a wonderful memory.
I remember my Mom making Christmas cookies one year. It was such a big production that the cookie dough and shaping was done in the kitchen, and the warm cookies were dried in the dining room and iced there. I have my Mom's stained recipe for those cookies made with eggs, sugar, butter, and sour cream. Mom credits Mary Ann as the one who gave her the recipe. The recipe calls for five cups of flour. The instructions are simple: roll out. 375 degrees, 15 minutes.
I remember star shaped cookie cutters, and reindeer shapes. I am sure we got more flour all over the kitchen than in the cookies. Mom rolled the cookies thin, and the icing was made with confectioner's powdered sugar and milk and food coloring.
Thanks, Mom for a wonderful memory.
Thursday, December 6, 2007
O Christmas Tree, O Christmas Tree...
A few days ago, I got down the can-o-ornaments and spread them out on the counter. I just could not decide whether to put the Christmas tree up this year or not.
We did not "do" a Christmas tree until our baby turned two or three. At the time, it seemed like such an expensive ($40) little four footer. We have a small house, and it has always been kid friendly. But, this has also been a house of just guys.
When the boys were little, I remember them fighting over the ornaments. Decorating the tree was a job for reforee mom. I doled out the ornaments fairly. And whenever you do things with boys the job at hand becomes a race. A competition. How fast can we decorate this tree?
One year the boys did not want me to take it down. Back when they were all sharing one room. So, I moved it to their room, and it made a great nightlight.
Ususally the drill involved waiting until Dad got home so that he could precisely wrestle the strings of lights on the tree. One year I forgot I had shoved it back int he box with its light strings attached, and felt really silly when I told the boys we have to wait until Dad gets home, only to find the lights were already on it.
For the past few years, as the boys go to college, and the oldest got married and left us to start his own family, enthusiasm for the tree waned. Some years the two left at home were willing, but reluctant unless it was their idea. And now, down to one, with May his exit date, I sensed that Dad and middle child did not care one way or another. And where to put it? I'd rather have seats for visiting than take up floor space for a tree. And I don't want to interfere with nightly Scrabble.
Yesterday, it hit me. Keep it simple. Put up the tree, but with an extension so that I can lift it off the Scrabble table for our nightly games. The tree looks nice. And I got to take my time and place the ornaments just so. I added a few new things---like the chop sticks, because we go to Pei Wei so much these days. And the old beanie baby toys and toys from the Babe movie, and Toy Story. It is still kid friendly for The Grandchild. And I got used to doing it myself.
Traditions change. I am not married to traditions. As our boys grow up and fly the nest, our current tradition is transition. I am trying to stay flexible and enjoy every stage. But, I sure miss those little guys even if they were LOUD. When the leaves fill the gutters, I see a little blonde boy in tiny jeans shuffling around the block. That little guy climbs roofs these days, and installs solar panels. He grew up. How short it seems looking back, that they were little. It was such an intense time. High alert, 24/7. They no longer fit in my lap, and they will never lay their head on my shoulder again like they did when they were babies. But, the ornaments spark memories. The picture of middle son on Santa's lap---he whipped it out as ID when cashing a check at the bank when he was eight or nine.
I hope firsborn has the pig ornament and the red feathered bird on their tree. And all the trumpets and french horns...
We did not "do" a Christmas tree until our baby turned two or three. At the time, it seemed like such an expensive ($40) little four footer. We have a small house, and it has always been kid friendly. But, this has also been a house of just guys.
When the boys were little, I remember them fighting over the ornaments. Decorating the tree was a job for reforee mom. I doled out the ornaments fairly. And whenever you do things with boys the job at hand becomes a race. A competition. How fast can we decorate this tree?
One year the boys did not want me to take it down. Back when they were all sharing one room. So, I moved it to their room, and it made a great nightlight.
Ususally the drill involved waiting until Dad got home so that he could precisely wrestle the strings of lights on the tree. One year I forgot I had shoved it back int he box with its light strings attached, and felt really silly when I told the boys we have to wait until Dad gets home, only to find the lights were already on it.
For the past few years, as the boys go to college, and the oldest got married and left us to start his own family, enthusiasm for the tree waned. Some years the two left at home were willing, but reluctant unless it was their idea. And now, down to one, with May his exit date, I sensed that Dad and middle child did not care one way or another. And where to put it? I'd rather have seats for visiting than take up floor space for a tree. And I don't want to interfere with nightly Scrabble.
Yesterday, it hit me. Keep it simple. Put up the tree, but with an extension so that I can lift it off the Scrabble table for our nightly games. The tree looks nice. And I got to take my time and place the ornaments just so. I added a few new things---like the chop sticks, because we go to Pei Wei so much these days. And the old beanie baby toys and toys from the Babe movie, and Toy Story. It is still kid friendly for The Grandchild. And I got used to doing it myself.
Traditions change. I am not married to traditions. As our boys grow up and fly the nest, our current tradition is transition. I am trying to stay flexible and enjoy every stage. But, I sure miss those little guys even if they were LOUD. When the leaves fill the gutters, I see a little blonde boy in tiny jeans shuffling around the block. That little guy climbs roofs these days, and installs solar panels. He grew up. How short it seems looking back, that they were little. It was such an intense time. High alert, 24/7. They no longer fit in my lap, and they will never lay their head on my shoulder again like they did when they were babies. But, the ornaments spark memories. The picture of middle son on Santa's lap---he whipped it out as ID when cashing a check at the bank when he was eight or nine.
I hope firsborn has the pig ornament and the red feathered bird on their tree. And all the trumpets and french horns...
Wednesday, October 17, 2007
Our responsibility
But if you warn a wicked person to turn from his way and he doesn't turn from it, he will die for his iniquity, but you will have saved your life. Ezekiel 33:9
God says just a few verses later: I take no pleasure in the death of the wicked, but rather that the wicked person should turn from his way and live. Repent, repent of our evil ways !
Its our job to warn. To speak up. Reprove the Ruthless.
God says just a few verses later: I take no pleasure in the death of the wicked, but rather that the wicked person should turn from his way and live. Repent, repent of our evil ways !
Its our job to warn. To speak up. Reprove the Ruthless.
Tuesday, October 16, 2007
Day 2 without power...the last thirty minutes in a twenty hour adventure
It is five o'clock in the morning of Day 2 without power, (I wrote by flashlight). I promised my son I'd wake him up in thirty minutes because he has a PT test this morning and he set his cell phone alarm 30 minutes early so he could read his Bible. But, by candle light, it is too dark to read.
By candlelight we played Scrabble last night. Bob calls Scrabble foreplay. He beat me by ten points. I had a word EXCITING but no where to play it, so I played the "X" on a triple joining an "O" and an "E" already on the board for 54 points. Then I had the word, SINNING, but Bob went out before I could play. After the game is over, we find places to fit the leftover tiles. Just for fun. Just for some completeness. It doesn't gain me any points or change who won nor the score. But, I found a space for SINNING. The sound of chain saws all night. Seems like crews would be more effective during the day, but a truck was dispatched what with all the calls. The whole neighborhood was dark as the tree trimmers cleared all the lines.
The frig is leaking. Twenty hours without being opened, but without power, and the ice is melting.
And then, at 5:30am: THE POWER IS BACK ON !! yeah ! LIGHTS ! CAMERA ! ACTION !
Now the coffeemaker will work. Bob blew out the candle he was shaving by and I hard boiled a dozen eggs.
It was clear earlier as I checked on trucks down the street. I saw stars. But, it started getting foggy. I like fog. Fog is cool. Quiet. Fog eats noise.
Laundry humming, second load of dishes also loaded. Sixty degrees outside. Feels great.
My son reminded me he is twenty-one years old. Again. He is tired of being mothered. He saw my page of cursive and asked, what is that? When I was in seventh grade our teacher encouraged us to practice our handwriting. Didn't his teachers?
By candlelight we played Scrabble last night. Bob calls Scrabble foreplay. He beat me by ten points. I had a word EXCITING but no where to play it, so I played the "X" on a triple joining an "O" and an "E" already on the board for 54 points. Then I had the word, SINNING, but Bob went out before I could play. After the game is over, we find places to fit the leftover tiles. Just for fun. Just for some completeness. It doesn't gain me any points or change who won nor the score. But, I found a space for SINNING. The sound of chain saws all night. Seems like crews would be more effective during the day, but a truck was dispatched what with all the calls. The whole neighborhood was dark as the tree trimmers cleared all the lines.
The frig is leaking. Twenty hours without being opened, but without power, and the ice is melting.
And then, at 5:30am: THE POWER IS BACK ON !! yeah ! LIGHTS ! CAMERA ! ACTION !
Now the coffeemaker will work. Bob blew out the candle he was shaving by and I hard boiled a dozen eggs.
It was clear earlier as I checked on trucks down the street. I saw stars. But, it started getting foggy. I like fog. Fog is cool. Quiet. Fog eats noise.
Laundry humming, second load of dishes also loaded. Sixty degrees outside. Feels great.
My son reminded me he is twenty-one years old. Again. He is tired of being mothered. He saw my page of cursive and asked, what is that? When I was in seventh grade our teacher encouraged us to practice our handwriting. Didn't his teachers?
A Day Without Power
October 15, 2007 (I wrote in longhand)
No vacuuming
No dishwasher
No computer
No radio
No lights
No cordless phone
I'm thankful its cooler. No need for AC. I'm thankful for birds twittering. And I'm thankful for screens. We sure needed the rain.
A cardinal with sharp peeps.
A titmouse (horrid name).
A chickadee. Traffic and engines with that doplar effect. This would be a fine day for painting on canvas or walls. Today marks an ending of summer at last. No AC humming away here. Autumn approaching Texas from north and from west with delicious coolness. A chill.
A time for re-arranging.
A time to reconsider.
A time to trim up those bangs.
Stamps wait in the basket. Bills that need writing. But, there will be no checkbook reonciling until the power is back on.
Scented candle time !
The tree trunks turn from grey to black after being saturated with a heavy rain. How come I never noticed it before?
The streets dry first. Why are they in such a hurry? The trees continue dripping.
A time to practice cursive. A time to listen. A basketball bouncing next door will probably bounce until it is too dark to see.
When the power comes back on it will be bright as day. The frig will hum and the switches work and the screen on the computer will fuss that I didn't shut it down properly. Fans will whirl and it will be revealed what all got left on.
No vacuuming
No dishwasher
No computer
No radio
No lights
No cordless phone
I'm thankful its cooler. No need for AC. I'm thankful for birds twittering. And I'm thankful for screens. We sure needed the rain.
A cardinal with sharp peeps.
A titmouse (horrid name).
A chickadee. Traffic and engines with that doplar effect. This would be a fine day for painting on canvas or walls. Today marks an ending of summer at last. No AC humming away here. Autumn approaching Texas from north and from west with delicious coolness. A chill.
A time for re-arranging.
A time to reconsider.
A time to trim up those bangs.
Stamps wait in the basket. Bills that need writing. But, there will be no checkbook reonciling until the power is back on.
Scented candle time !
The tree trunks turn from grey to black after being saturated with a heavy rain. How come I never noticed it before?
The streets dry first. Why are they in such a hurry? The trees continue dripping.
A time to practice cursive. A time to listen. A basketball bouncing next door will probably bounce until it is too dark to see.
When the power comes back on it will be bright as day. The frig will hum and the switches work and the screen on the computer will fuss that I didn't shut it down properly. Fans will whirl and it will be revealed what all got left on.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
