I remember when I was still working in the library I used to see people coming in at Christmas time and leisurely ambling through the stacks, choosing books, sitting in the reading areas with magazines or their latest checkouts, completely at ease, not rushing around like the self within me who was racing in circles, counting the minutes when I would be off work so I could rush to some task. I also used to fantasize that when I was retired all that would change! Fantasy indeed.
True I have tons of time now to do everything, but that still doesn't cancel out the logjam of late December activities - the little gifts of acknowledgment, the cards to be thoughtfully written and sent, the bit of baking, the concerts, the luncheon dates. And if you have one big entertaining occasion coming - like we do in going to the mountains, there is still a lots of food buying and the hustle and bustle of packing. When the first Christmas comes that we have nothing big planned and we can just kick back from the first day in December all the way to January 1, will I be bored????
I'd like to give it a shot!
Saturday, December 21, 2019
Tuesday, December 17, 2019
braiding rugs and memories
My sister sent me a picture of a braided rug and asked me if I wanted it as none of her children seemed interested in it. It is a rug that my mother braided and sewed together. And while I am in a continuous mode of getting rid of things, gradually, this one I can't pass over!
Rugs are underfoot rather than filling up shelf or closet space, and every time I look down I will see my mother and the creation of that rug. In my mind's eye, I see Mother sitting in the front room of our childhood house in Hinkletown, at night - because seriously, when did Mother ever sit down much during the day in the midst of keeping a household of seven clean and fed?! These scenes float from the era of radio, because we would gather in that room around the radio to listen to our favorite shows - The Great Gildersleeve, Fibber McGee and Molly, Jack Benny, Ozzie and Harriet, Beulah, etc. I can still see her laughing as she listened, hooking the scraps of fabric together into a braid- even in that moment of relaxation being productive.
Do I want the rug? Indeed, because it not only covers a spot in my room but it encompasses sweet moments of childhood, weaving the strands of love to bridge the years.
Rugs are underfoot rather than filling up shelf or closet space, and every time I look down I will see my mother and the creation of that rug. In my mind's eye, I see Mother sitting in the front room of our childhood house in Hinkletown, at night - because seriously, when did Mother ever sit down much during the day in the midst of keeping a household of seven clean and fed?! These scenes float from the era of radio, because we would gather in that room around the radio to listen to our favorite shows - The Great Gildersleeve, Fibber McGee and Molly, Jack Benny, Ozzie and Harriet, Beulah, etc. I can still see her laughing as she listened, hooking the scraps of fabric together into a braid- even in that moment of relaxation being productive.
Do I want the rug? Indeed, because it not only covers a spot in my room but it encompasses sweet moments of childhood, weaving the strands of love to bridge the years.
Monday, December 16, 2019
witnessing
One rare occasion in this rainy/icy/snowy/miserable pre-Christmas season we seem to be having, my husband and I found ourselves together at a mall - that place of all places we both avoid like the plague. We did our purchasing quickly and then indulged in the essence of the mall aroma - a Cinnabon! It was the second taste of my life and because I grew up on much better sticky or cinnamon rolls, this roll wasn't euphoric, but it certainly was sweet and caloric! As we were sharing one, my husband looked at a nearby table and whispered to me "Check out that guy - he's eating an apple!" And sure enough, there he was, munching determinedly on a crisp green apple! As funny as that was, my husband's comment topped it. In sotto voce he murmured, "He's witnessing!"
In my childhood days we were taught to "witness" by living exemplary lives - as largely pertains to the Gospel, but I simply loved the impertinence of this forthright man crunching his apple in the midst of a host of slackers indulging in a heap of sugar and cinnamon! That's surely how the world will right itself!!
In my childhood days we were taught to "witness" by living exemplary lives - as largely pertains to the Gospel, but I simply loved the impertinence of this forthright man crunching his apple in the midst of a host of slackers indulging in a heap of sugar and cinnamon! That's surely how the world will right itself!!
Wednesday, December 11, 2019
mince pie
My brother wrote a note mentioning he had mince pie at a Lancaster County restaurant over Thanksgiving. Mince Pie!
I know from experience lots of people look at me blankly when I utter those words. I thought perhaps the origin was German, but I do believe it came from the Crown! And truly, it does not sound appetizing when described as a pie filled with minced meat, suet, and fruits! But, um, do I get hungry for old-fashioned mince pie from my childhood!
To me, the words conjure up December Sunday evenings, when we had the Weaver relatives over for a staggering Christmas dinner at noon. We spent the afternoon, talking, playing games, maybe getting out to stretch a little depending on the weather, and then early evening, Mother would get out a light spread that usually included warm mince pie with vanilla ice cream. I remember each delicious melting bite!!
So, its not just the pie, but it's my Uncle Mark's hearty, chest-heaving laugh, the noisy scatter of conversation, cousins scampering, warmth, physical fullness, contentment.
And the sheltering umbrella of family.
I know from experience lots of people look at me blankly when I utter those words. I thought perhaps the origin was German, but I do believe it came from the Crown! And truly, it does not sound appetizing when described as a pie filled with minced meat, suet, and fruits! But, um, do I get hungry for old-fashioned mince pie from my childhood!
To me, the words conjure up December Sunday evenings, when we had the Weaver relatives over for a staggering Christmas dinner at noon. We spent the afternoon, talking, playing games, maybe getting out to stretch a little depending on the weather, and then early evening, Mother would get out a light spread that usually included warm mince pie with vanilla ice cream. I remember each delicious melting bite!!
So, its not just the pie, but it's my Uncle Mark's hearty, chest-heaving laugh, the noisy scatter of conversation, cousins scampering, warmth, physical fullness, contentment.
And the sheltering umbrella of family.
Monday, December 9, 2019
walking the straight, narrow and comfortable
Shoes.
Minor item, right? Living in the part of the world that we do, we have worn shoes all our lives. Since retiring I have noticed how my footwear has evolved!
First of all I read an article from our health care provider that seniors should take a look at their wardrobes and essentially rid themselves of any backless shoes. It is statistically documented that a large number of falls result from shoes that allow the foot to slip out on stairs, slopes or inclines of any kind, That was a new thought as I have worn clogs and sandals all my life - but I could see the logic. Now my feet are contained at all times.
The other revelation came with heel size consideration. The other day I went shopping with a slightly elevated boot and I have paid for it with two days of heel soreness. I can see the future years reflect basically sturdy comfortable shoes, period!
Of course since I walk four miles a day the above isn't a revelation completely. But I think it is important to realize that well-constructed footwear is now essential rather than an interesting theory.
And then of course my mind flits back to childhood when those first warm Spring days that begged for bare feet! Mother was ultra-conservative about the timing. My next-door neighbor's mother had no such compunctions so they flung caution to the wind and were enviously trampling through the greening grass and plowed gardens days before we were allowed! What, was there a bare foot law, like not planting peas before May 15??
Who would have thought that rules govern even our footwear?
Minor item, right? Living in the part of the world that we do, we have worn shoes all our lives. Since retiring I have noticed how my footwear has evolved!
First of all I read an article from our health care provider that seniors should take a look at their wardrobes and essentially rid themselves of any backless shoes. It is statistically documented that a large number of falls result from shoes that allow the foot to slip out on stairs, slopes or inclines of any kind, That was a new thought as I have worn clogs and sandals all my life - but I could see the logic. Now my feet are contained at all times.
The other revelation came with heel size consideration. The other day I went shopping with a slightly elevated boot and I have paid for it with two days of heel soreness. I can see the future years reflect basically sturdy comfortable shoes, period!
Of course since I walk four miles a day the above isn't a revelation completely. But I think it is important to realize that well-constructed footwear is now essential rather than an interesting theory.
And then of course my mind flits back to childhood when those first warm Spring days that begged for bare feet! Mother was ultra-conservative about the timing. My next-door neighbor's mother had no such compunctions so they flung caution to the wind and were enviously trampling through the greening grass and plowed gardens days before we were allowed! What, was there a bare foot law, like not planting peas before May 15??
Who would have thought that rules govern even our footwear?
Sunday, December 8, 2019
connected
Recently I have been impressed by an aspect of shopping that I never noticed before. Disclaimer - I rarely shop, but I used to scrounge a lot around Christmas time for unique stocking stuffers and that takes time and a whole lot of energy. This year I was looking for one specific item for my sister and it required interacting with sales personnel. The gamut of sales personnel is a whole story in itself, but not my point right now!! I'm here with a positive note.
Every time I went beyond the neat straight lines of the inquiry, I got rewarded. I even had an extended conversation with a clerk at a most unlikely store about giving and receiving presents - it was astonishing! It was like there was the tiniest trickle of water flowing, and I just pushed aside one little stone and the trickle became a stream - full of sound and light and completely refreshing!
The other thing that jumped out at me, I spoke to other customers who were either wandering aimlessly in large department stores like I was, or looked to be in the know, and all four times that I ventured beyond my personal space I was again rewarded with humor, understanding, comradery! I just was reminded again how buttoned up we are for the most part. I understood completely how important openness was on a public desk at a library for 33 years. Now I think I have to convey the concept to wherever my steps take me in each day.
I think the world hungers for connection.
Every time I went beyond the neat straight lines of the inquiry, I got rewarded. I even had an extended conversation with a clerk at a most unlikely store about giving and receiving presents - it was astonishing! It was like there was the tiniest trickle of water flowing, and I just pushed aside one little stone and the trickle became a stream - full of sound and light and completely refreshing!
The other thing that jumped out at me, I spoke to other customers who were either wandering aimlessly in large department stores like I was, or looked to be in the know, and all four times that I ventured beyond my personal space I was again rewarded with humor, understanding, comradery! I just was reminded again how buttoned up we are for the most part. I understood completely how important openness was on a public desk at a library for 33 years. Now I think I have to convey the concept to wherever my steps take me in each day.
I think the world hungers for connection.
Saturday, December 7, 2019
o tannenbaum
Yesterday the Christmas tree went up in our household.
Each year, I glance at the work it entails and think, do I want to do it? And each year - so far - I remember the endless hours of the lovely glow of it all through the day and night until bedtime and push myself to make the effort.
As I unpack the ornaments, one by one, I unpack my memories. The history of some elude me, but mostly they all have a past that is precious - ones the kids made in school, others from family, friends, colleagues - or ones that I bought myself, like Emily. Several years ago I happened to spot "Emily" in a Target bin and fell in love with her old-fashioned goodness. She's Anne of Green Gables, Pippi Longstocking, Understood Betsy all rolled up in one! And now she smiles from my tree each year.
The ornaments are not only bridges to friends but to places where we lived - one from a hardware store in Kansas, some from the Conran's somewhere here in Northern VA, others from New York City, Tangier Island, on and on. They are like a little hello across the years, a small road map.
Perhaps I love the process so much because it's purely mine, not something handed down from my childhood as we seldom had a Christmas tree - lots of presents, candles glowing in the windows, the smell of baking cookies, music, but trees weren't a big part.
I remember our first year in Newfoundland when we were boarding with a sea captain's family. Our bedroom was small but we hiked into the woods out back and brought back a tiny tree and set it on our trunk. One of the family's teenage sons commented, "My dears, that is a some naked tree!" And so it was, but it was the beginning of our own tradition.
And that, in a word, is the beauty.
Each year, I glance at the work it entails and think, do I want to do it? And each year - so far - I remember the endless hours of the lovely glow of it all through the day and night until bedtime and push myself to make the effort.
As I unpack the ornaments, one by one, I unpack my memories. The history of some elude me, but mostly they all have a past that is precious - ones the kids made in school, others from family, friends, colleagues - or ones that I bought myself, like Emily. Several years ago I happened to spot "Emily" in a Target bin and fell in love with her old-fashioned goodness. She's Anne of Green Gables, Pippi Longstocking, Understood Betsy all rolled up in one! And now she smiles from my tree each year.
The ornaments are not only bridges to friends but to places where we lived - one from a hardware store in Kansas, some from the Conran's somewhere here in Northern VA, others from New York City, Tangier Island, on and on. They are like a little hello across the years, a small road map.
Perhaps I love the process so much because it's purely mine, not something handed down from my childhood as we seldom had a Christmas tree - lots of presents, candles glowing in the windows, the smell of baking cookies, music, but trees weren't a big part.
I remember our first year in Newfoundland when we were boarding with a sea captain's family. Our bedroom was small but we hiked into the woods out back and brought back a tiny tree and set it on our trunk. One of the family's teenage sons commented, "My dears, that is a some naked tree!" And so it was, but it was the beginning of our own tradition.
And that, in a word, is the beauty.
Tuesday, December 3, 2019
through the arch
A former library colleague and I were discussing our retirement from the library and I asked her if she missed it. She looked at me with an almost sheepish grin and said, "Not really!" And I grinned back. Not really.
To me it's almost astonishing to utter those words! I waited so long to retire thinking I would be devastated not to see my" people" anymore. I had dozens and dozens of people whose lives I had followed for more than 20 years - through births, deaths, marriages, divorces, promotions, firings, joys, sorrows - the gamut of life. I loved them. I still do but now they are a memory population and they are doing just fine. I often take them down from the shelf and think about them, but now its almost like thinking about characters in a book. I cherish them still for all the enrichment they provided me through the years, but now that phase of our friendship is over. And its just fine.
As Tennyson said so many years before me, but surely he was thinking of me (:)) "All experience is an arch wherethrough gleams that untraveled world whose margin fades for ever and for ever when I move."
A toast to untraveled worlds!
To me it's almost astonishing to utter those words! I waited so long to retire thinking I would be devastated not to see my" people" anymore. I had dozens and dozens of people whose lives I had followed for more than 20 years - through births, deaths, marriages, divorces, promotions, firings, joys, sorrows - the gamut of life. I loved them. I still do but now they are a memory population and they are doing just fine. I often take them down from the shelf and think about them, but now its almost like thinking about characters in a book. I cherish them still for all the enrichment they provided me through the years, but now that phase of our friendship is over. And its just fine.
As Tennyson said so many years before me, but surely he was thinking of me (:)) "All experience is an arch wherethrough gleams that untraveled world whose margin fades for ever and for ever when I move."
A toast to untraveled worlds!
Sunday, December 1, 2019
passing days
It was dripping when I started my walk this afternoon, but as if the rain gods kept tightening the faucet as I went along, the rain lessened and finally my umbrella came down for good. When I came through the door after four miles, my cheeks felt rosy cold - the first feel of winter! The rest of me was all bundled away, but the cheeks are the yardstick! And why shouldn't they feel cool - it's December!
And December is another mystery! HOW could it be December? I'm really trying hard to relax against the flood of time, but I do truly find how it slips through my fingers like water. disconcerting. I just look around, and it's gone!
The final glory tonight was a Face Book entry that pointed out we will be starting another DECADE in a few weeks! Now, that really got my attention! This is truly wild horses pounding across the plains!
Nevertheless instead of bracing my feet against the floorboards, I will try to welcome each new day and not be calculating their accumulative heft! Early New Year resolution!
And everyone knows how well those things work out.
And December is another mystery! HOW could it be December? I'm really trying hard to relax against the flood of time, but I do truly find how it slips through my fingers like water. disconcerting. I just look around, and it's gone!
The final glory tonight was a Face Book entry that pointed out we will be starting another DECADE in a few weeks! Now, that really got my attention! This is truly wild horses pounding across the plains!
Nevertheless instead of bracing my feet against the floorboards, I will try to welcome each new day and not be calculating their accumulative heft! Early New Year resolution!
And everyone knows how well those things work out.
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