It's almost New Year's Eve and much of America is in its annual end-of-the-year frenzy. What are you doing New Year, New Year's Eve?
There are a lot of options for a good time. Church parties or nightclub parties? Quiet gatherings or bashes the police need to break up? Fireworks! Lots of fireworks! Probably all I'll do this year is stay home, watch more black and white movies, and reminisce. I haven't accepted a NYE party invitation in so long that I no longer get invited anywhere. And that's a shame, because I'd probably enjoy a party as long as I could be home by 10.
One of my favorite NYE parties was the one I threw while in college many years ago. It lasted all night and my parents were very good sports about it. We weren't twenty-one, but there was enough alcohol to open a bar. (This was completely the opposite of the party I threw while in high school when I dumped out a punch bowl spiked with cheap booze. Teased unmercifully for the next year, I even received an "award" at graduation - I was voted Most Likely to Head up the Next Temperance League. Ha ha, so funny I forgot to laugh.) Anyhow, back to that party. The place was packed. I never invited a bunch of the people who showed up, but I was glad to see them. As I remember, most of them were boys. Mine was the party to be at. Got your toolbox full of beer? Come share it at Barbara's party. (Although I've yet to figure out how bringing a big tool box into a party house is less suspicious than carrying a case of Rolling Rock.) But yea me... the curse of Miss Tea-totaller was over. "Bye Bye Miss American Pie" was the song of the season; and it still brings back bittersweet memories of climbing the tower at Valley Forge Park on that crisp morning. Many relationships began and ended that night, and more than a few cars parked outside had seriously steamed up windows. It was magical. I was young, in love with life, and so full of hope for the future and what the new year would bring me.
Those were the days, my friend, we thought they'd never end. We'd sing and dance for ever and a day......
Well, those days did end. We grew up. Many of us settled down and started families. We were full-time adults with responsible jobs. Most of our gatherings included food - appetizers, dinners, desserts, and snacks - and not a whole lot of dancing. We grew fat. We grew apart. No more all-nighters for us. Regretfully, some of those hardy partiers are no longer celebrating on this earth.
Sound sad? It isn't really; it's just the rhythm of life. As the milestones which once came rapidly and defined the months and years of an exciting existence have slowed down, so too has the uniqueness of the years. I find that except for a major event, too often tragic, each year is a lot like the last year. Recently a friend pondered about what 2013 would bring her. My response? Probably more of the same.
However, I hope "the same" is a comfortable sameness. I hope the sameness includes a healthy family, a living wage, some creature comforts, good friends, lots of smiles and laughter, you know -- the good stuff. May you open your eyes each day happy to be awake and content to be alive. May you be filled with purpose and joy. May you have fond memories of the past and some dreams for the future. If that's not possible, may you at least take an anti-depressant that can keep you going.
Happy new year dear friends! I'm looking forward to welcoming in 2013. I'd even enjoy doing such welcoming at a New Year's Eve party (hint, hint), provided I'm off the roads and home by 10.
Sunday, December 30, 2012
Saturday, December 22, 2012
Extreme Cheapskating
I'm watching an Extreme Cheapskates marathon, and I'm just dumbfounded. I have always been frugal, but these people are downright skinflints.
One guy took his wife to the movies. While she was watching the film, he left his seat to dig through the trashcan until he found a soda cup and a popcorn bag. He rinsed the cup out in the bathroom and then took it and the popcorn bag to the snack counter for free refills. Twice. Another guy advocated taking extra condiment packs from the fast food place. A third guy took his family of six to a Chinese buffet where he paid for three plates and made them share. One guy went to an ice cream place and after fourteen free samples declared himself too full to buy a cone. I don't know, but those thrifty techniques strike me as bordering on theft. One guy refuses to turn on his air conditioner. Instead, he dusts his body parts with cornstarch to keep them from sticking together. A presently unemployed woman owns her apartment in NYC, but she saves the paper towels she uses in a restroom to reuse at home. One woman, who by the way is a millionaire, dumpster dives for food. Ok, I can let people slide if what they're taking is securely packaged, but this woman was thrilled to find a hunk of cooked rice. No package. Just dumped from a salad bar is my guess. I wonder how much food poisoning costs to treat? Her son is used to Mom's foraging. After all, what's a little diarrhea if you're saving money?
They all had the same thing in common; they were thrilled to be saving money. The question that was never answered, though, is what exactly are they saving for?
I spent thirty years as a teacher. I am now one of those seniors on a fixed income. I remember my first year's salary, $9,500 before taxes. I felt like I was rolling in the bucks! Ha Ha. I lived frugally so I could make ends meet. I have friends who hesitate to come to my house in the winter because they think it's too cold. I guess that's why Christmas presents to me are often thick fuzzy slippers, quilted robes, gloves, scarves, and earmuffs. I use them all, both outside and sometimes inside the house. I can color and highlight my hair so well that I get compliments from the gals at the Cuttery. So yes, I cut back wherever I can; and I've never had a bill I couldn't pay.
These people seem to focus on money every waking minute in order to make the cheapskate decisions they do. They will bargain with storekeepers for a half hour trying to wear them down to get a few dollars taken off the bill. They will spend endless minutes pulling apart two-ply tissue paper. That is, if they even use toilet paper. The millionaire woman urinates in a jar and pours it on her compost pile. Everything they do is the result of a well-thought out plan to do it in the cheapest way possible. These folks are the anorexics of the spending world.
And for what? To save money they don't intend to ever spend? Does that make sense to you? The thought of focusing so intently on pennies simply exhausts me.
I admit, my house may be cold in the winter. But, if you are my waiter, you enjoy a 20-25 % tip. If my mail doesn't fit the box, my mail lady delivers it to my door. There's a reason for that, but it is illegal for mail employees to accept money, so that's all I can say. I give generously to charity and frequently "loan" money that I never expect to be repaid. And I do it joyously.
I am both amazed and appalled by the cheapskate actions of the people on this television show. But I will admit, I did pick up a few hints.....
One guy took his wife to the movies. While she was watching the film, he left his seat to dig through the trashcan until he found a soda cup and a popcorn bag. He rinsed the cup out in the bathroom and then took it and the popcorn bag to the snack counter for free refills. Twice. Another guy advocated taking extra condiment packs from the fast food place. A third guy took his family of six to a Chinese buffet where he paid for three plates and made them share. One guy went to an ice cream place and after fourteen free samples declared himself too full to buy a cone. I don't know, but those thrifty techniques strike me as bordering on theft. One guy refuses to turn on his air conditioner. Instead, he dusts his body parts with cornstarch to keep them from sticking together. A presently unemployed woman owns her apartment in NYC, but she saves the paper towels she uses in a restroom to reuse at home. One woman, who by the way is a millionaire, dumpster dives for food. Ok, I can let people slide if what they're taking is securely packaged, but this woman was thrilled to find a hunk of cooked rice. No package. Just dumped from a salad bar is my guess. I wonder how much food poisoning costs to treat? Her son is used to Mom's foraging. After all, what's a little diarrhea if you're saving money?
They all had the same thing in common; they were thrilled to be saving money. The question that was never answered, though, is what exactly are they saving for?
I spent thirty years as a teacher. I am now one of those seniors on a fixed income. I remember my first year's salary, $9,500 before taxes. I felt like I was rolling in the bucks! Ha Ha. I lived frugally so I could make ends meet. I have friends who hesitate to come to my house in the winter because they think it's too cold. I guess that's why Christmas presents to me are often thick fuzzy slippers, quilted robes, gloves, scarves, and earmuffs. I use them all, both outside and sometimes inside the house. I can color and highlight my hair so well that I get compliments from the gals at the Cuttery. So yes, I cut back wherever I can; and I've never had a bill I couldn't pay.
These people seem to focus on money every waking minute in order to make the cheapskate decisions they do. They will bargain with storekeepers for a half hour trying to wear them down to get a few dollars taken off the bill. They will spend endless minutes pulling apart two-ply tissue paper. That is, if they even use toilet paper. The millionaire woman urinates in a jar and pours it on her compost pile. Everything they do is the result of a well-thought out plan to do it in the cheapest way possible. These folks are the anorexics of the spending world.
And for what? To save money they don't intend to ever spend? Does that make sense to you? The thought of focusing so intently on pennies simply exhausts me.
I admit, my house may be cold in the winter. But, if you are my waiter, you enjoy a 20-25 % tip. If my mail doesn't fit the box, my mail lady delivers it to my door. There's a reason for that, but it is illegal for mail employees to accept money, so that's all I can say. I give generously to charity and frequently "loan" money that I never expect to be repaid. And I do it joyously.
I am both amazed and appalled by the cheapskate actions of the people on this television show. But I will admit, I did pick up a few hints.....
Wednesday, December 19, 2012
Let's Just Talk About the Weather
It's sunny and warm today. It will be in the 60's at high noon. On a December day in Maryland, that's not the norm. But, I love it!
I hate the winter, not because of the snow, or even the ice. I hate the grey. Grey skies. Grey rain. Grey fog. Days like that just whip the emotional sunshine out of me.
There are predictions swirling the media that we are in for a difficult winter. It is supposed to be very cold and very snowy. Supposedly the caterpillars are already dressed in their winter coats.
I'm finding those reports hard to believe. Last year was the mildest winter I ever experienced in the mid-Atlantic states. I think our biggest snow was the one that coated the Halloween decorations that October. It's the middle of December, and I have yet to see a single snow flake. Sure feels like a repeat of last year's weather.
Today I will wear my lightweight jeans, a T-shirt, and my favorite denim jacket. And, I'll try to remember that Christmas is but a week away. Most likely, it won't look like the snowy scenes on the cards in my basket. But that's ok, as long as it stays sunny.
I will need the warmth of the sun, the optimism of a sunny day, and the healthy boost of Vitamin D to lighten my heart this Christmas season. This has been a tough Advent.
Merry sunny Christmas to all!
I hate the winter, not because of the snow, or even the ice. I hate the grey. Grey skies. Grey rain. Grey fog. Days like that just whip the emotional sunshine out of me.
There are predictions swirling the media that we are in for a difficult winter. It is supposed to be very cold and very snowy. Supposedly the caterpillars are already dressed in their winter coats.
I'm finding those reports hard to believe. Last year was the mildest winter I ever experienced in the mid-Atlantic states. I think our biggest snow was the one that coated the Halloween decorations that October. It's the middle of December, and I have yet to see a single snow flake. Sure feels like a repeat of last year's weather.
Today I will wear my lightweight jeans, a T-shirt, and my favorite denim jacket. And, I'll try to remember that Christmas is but a week away. Most likely, it won't look like the snowy scenes on the cards in my basket. But that's ok, as long as it stays sunny.
I will need the warmth of the sun, the optimism of a sunny day, and the healthy boost of Vitamin D to lighten my heart this Christmas season. This has been a tough Advent.
Merry sunny Christmas to all!
Sunday, December 16, 2012
The Tragedy in Conneticut
Like most of the people I know, I cannot stop thinking about the twenty-six people murdered by a lone twenty year old shooter. The horror of twenty children slaughtered ten days before Christmas is almost unbelievable. The television is impossible to watch. Everybody has a theory, every pundit has an opinion, and some experts even claim to know what was going through the mind of the shooter. Me? I'm stunned and in shock. The search for the perfect words for this blog has led me to dead ends in the maze of thoughts that tumble in my head and keep me awake at night.
After Columbine, I devised an escape plan for my classroom. My room was located next door to a storage closet, and there was a door to that closet in the front near the chalkboard . You wouldn't notice it immediately because my computer desk, monitor, and mile high stacks of ungraded assignments provided a camouflage. In my mind, I knew that if I ever heard shots, I could quickly move my students into the closet. The closet was divided by a locking door. I could either sneak them out of the window on one side or huddle them in the windowless section, depending on the situation. If locking all the doors kept me from getting in there with them, at least I could tell the killer my kids were in gym, and thus save them. Yep, I had it all worked out.
What a far cry from the protective measures taken in my elementary school when I was a child. Most of us of a certain age remember Russia being a threat. We were vaguely aware that the Russians could bomb us, but we weren't constantly on alert. When the bomb drill signaled, we crawled under our desks and covered our heads. While a bit uncomfortable, we weren't scared. Some kids would fall asleep and take a little nap. Our teacher would circulate the classroom and water the plants. When the drill was over, we stretched and went back to work, the threat of a communist attack over for that week.
How will the children who survived the massacre ever stretch and yawn and get back to work? How will those innocents ever be children again? How will all of those families ever feel joy or peace again? How? This is a tragedy that feels impossible to mentally survive.
I can't help but worry about my younger niece. This past year, she has developed a lot of fears that are somewhat crippling. She is afraid of the dark and no longer can sleep alone. If we're outside and it begins to rain, she visibly pales and begs to go indoors. She is afraid of hurricanes, tsunamis, and tornadoes. If she gets wind of a storm anywhere on the East coast, she is overcome with anxiety that it will destroy her world. How did this happen to her? She doesn't watch the news, we don't discuss this stuff, and yet, she knows. There will be no protecting her from the shootings in Connecticut. She will hear conversations. She will build fear inside her little head. She may even see something on the television before one of us can change the channel. Will she have difficulty leaving the security of her home to go to school? Will she be one of the many children who will never again feel safe?
I'm not going to rant in favor of gun control. If you know me, you know I have always been a proponent of stricter laws. I believe there are limits to any of the freedoms granted to Americans. The freedom of speech doesn't give you the right to yell fire in a crowded building. And the right to bear arms should not give a citizen the power to own a semi-automatic assault weapon. I believe the writers of the Constitution would roll over in their graves if they saw how the law is being interpreted in current times by the gun lobbyists and others who have a major financial interest in suppressing any restrictions. I have never owned a gun. I have no interest in spending time at a shooting range. And I do not want to live in a house where guns are present. I understand hunters and I do not begrudge them their rifles. I'll just never own one, that's all.
Some say that guns don't kill, people do, and the answer is education. One of the evening news shows blew a hole in that theory. A group of youngsters were given lessons in gun safety and what to do if they ever saw one (not touch it and tell an adult). All of their parents beamed with pride as their children parroted the lessons learned. Then, unloaded guns were placed in amongst their toys. Those same parents watched in horror as their kids picked up the guns, pointed them at each other, and then hid them when they heard the adult returning to the room. When questioned, they denied ever touching the guns because that was dangerous and wrong. No, education is not the answer to gun safety. Don't kid yourself.
I have no answers to offer. Like I said earlier, my thoughts are swirling a mile a minute in my head and banging into dead ends. I mourn the passing of those twenty-six innocents in Connecticut. I pity the shooter. But mostly, I ache for the children near and far who may never feel safe again in this crazy world. I ache for the adults who have lost all that really matters in life.
I am bottomless sad.
After Columbine, I devised an escape plan for my classroom. My room was located next door to a storage closet, and there was a door to that closet in the front near the chalkboard . You wouldn't notice it immediately because my computer desk, monitor, and mile high stacks of ungraded assignments provided a camouflage. In my mind, I knew that if I ever heard shots, I could quickly move my students into the closet. The closet was divided by a locking door. I could either sneak them out of the window on one side or huddle them in the windowless section, depending on the situation. If locking all the doors kept me from getting in there with them, at least I could tell the killer my kids were in gym, and thus save them. Yep, I had it all worked out.
What a far cry from the protective measures taken in my elementary school when I was a child. Most of us of a certain age remember Russia being a threat. We were vaguely aware that the Russians could bomb us, but we weren't constantly on alert. When the bomb drill signaled, we crawled under our desks and covered our heads. While a bit uncomfortable, we weren't scared. Some kids would fall asleep and take a little nap. Our teacher would circulate the classroom and water the plants. When the drill was over, we stretched and went back to work, the threat of a communist attack over for that week.
How will the children who survived the massacre ever stretch and yawn and get back to work? How will those innocents ever be children again? How will all of those families ever feel joy or peace again? How? This is a tragedy that feels impossible to mentally survive.
I can't help but worry about my younger niece. This past year, she has developed a lot of fears that are somewhat crippling. She is afraid of the dark and no longer can sleep alone. If we're outside and it begins to rain, she visibly pales and begs to go indoors. She is afraid of hurricanes, tsunamis, and tornadoes. If she gets wind of a storm anywhere on the East coast, she is overcome with anxiety that it will destroy her world. How did this happen to her? She doesn't watch the news, we don't discuss this stuff, and yet, she knows. There will be no protecting her from the shootings in Connecticut. She will hear conversations. She will build fear inside her little head. She may even see something on the television before one of us can change the channel. Will she have difficulty leaving the security of her home to go to school? Will she be one of the many children who will never again feel safe?
I'm not going to rant in favor of gun control. If you know me, you know I have always been a proponent of stricter laws. I believe there are limits to any of the freedoms granted to Americans. The freedom of speech doesn't give you the right to yell fire in a crowded building. And the right to bear arms should not give a citizen the power to own a semi-automatic assault weapon. I believe the writers of the Constitution would roll over in their graves if they saw how the law is being interpreted in current times by the gun lobbyists and others who have a major financial interest in suppressing any restrictions. I have never owned a gun. I have no interest in spending time at a shooting range. And I do not want to live in a house where guns are present. I understand hunters and I do not begrudge them their rifles. I'll just never own one, that's all.
Some say that guns don't kill, people do, and the answer is education. One of the evening news shows blew a hole in that theory. A group of youngsters were given lessons in gun safety and what to do if they ever saw one (not touch it and tell an adult). All of their parents beamed with pride as their children parroted the lessons learned. Then, unloaded guns were placed in amongst their toys. Those same parents watched in horror as their kids picked up the guns, pointed them at each other, and then hid them when they heard the adult returning to the room. When questioned, they denied ever touching the guns because that was dangerous and wrong. No, education is not the answer to gun safety. Don't kid yourself.
I have no answers to offer. Like I said earlier, my thoughts are swirling a mile a minute in my head and banging into dead ends. I mourn the passing of those twenty-six innocents in Connecticut. I pity the shooter. But mostly, I ache for the children near and far who may never feel safe again in this crazy world. I ache for the adults who have lost all that really matters in life.
I am bottomless sad.
Wednesday, December 12, 2012
If Life Were a Soap Opera
I often hear people describe their lives as soap operas. Usually they mean there's a lot of drama happening. I, however, have watched General Hospital since the early 70's. I don't think people who believe their lives are soap operas actually watch them, or they wouldn't use the expression so casually.
Right now there is a story on GH that involves four characters, Anna (the ex-secret agent turned police commissioner), Robert (also a secret agent and her ex-husband and the father of their child, Robin -who, by the way, is currently believed dead but is really being held prisoner in a Swiss hospital), Faison an evil villain who is wearing a rubber mask that makes him look exactly like one of Anna's other former husbands, Duke, who is the fourth person in the story also being held prisoner by Faison. Confused? Me too. Heck, I wasn't even sure how to punctuate the sentence. What's the best part of this story? Years ago all four characters were blown to smithereens in explosions. Anna and Robert even appeared as ghosts to advise and comfort their teenage daughter when her first lover died of AIDS and she was diagnosed with the HIV virus. So far, the teen lover has stayed dead....but everybody else who was blown up or burned to death was really alive all along!! There's an amazing clinic in Switzerland that seems able to put the body pieces together and kaboom! alive again!!
So, if your life is a soap opera, lucky you. Nobody you love, or yourself for that matter, will ever die...as long as there is someone to take the body pieces to that Swiss clinic.
Children on soap operas are another source of wonder. One wonders how the kids ever get to know their parents. Carly, for example, is always shacking up with somebody and she never has to worry about interrupting her trysts with a PTA meeting. The nanny takes care of all of that minutia. The kids never get sick, unless of course it is a major illness that actually refocuses the drama on the hospital set, instead of the docks where the shady mafia turned good guys operate their coffee business. And then, no matter what the mysterious illness, everybody recovers during sweeps month and moves on to the next mystery. That mystery being, how a five year old returns from the hospital or boarding school as an eighteen year old. One of the fun parts of soap operas is when a child no one knew they had mysteriously appears as a young adult in Port Charles. This usually happens around the time schools let out for the summer. It's totally believable though; I mean, after all, soap opera parents don't raise their kids so why should it be a surprise when one sneaks away or an extra kid shows up?
Yep, if your life was a soap opera you wouldn't have to mess with any of the trappings of child rearing. The perfect nanny would always be on call so you could do whatever you want. Beware, though, that when your kids come down to breakfast and they've suddenly aged ten or twelve years they will be emotionally messed up. Why not? After all, they were totally abandoned by their parents at crucial points in their development.
The best part of living a life that is a soap opera? You can literally stop the world and get off. Yep, in soap opera land you can leave your life and have a stand-in, the new you, take over. That stand-in will have all your memories, many of your mannerisms, and be able to handle all the events of your life as if they'd always been you. Or you'd always been them. Whatever. You can come back when you're ready. Kind of tempting, isn't it?
If you truly live a soap opera life, you are probably white, thin, and dressed in the latest haute couture. If you work, you can leave whenever you want to solve a major family crisis; you may own the latest in Smart phones, but why use a phone when a visit is so much more effective? You may have a few black neighbors (thanks to super couple Angie and Jesse), but don't expect to see many Asians or Hispanics. The Asian community in Port Charles usually springs to life around Chinese New Year, and then they're gone for another year. Hispanics materialize, speak with a bad accent, and then fade into the sunset. So, if you live a soap opera life, you're not culturally diverse. And that's a real shame. (Heck, even in Ceciltucky the people come in all shapes, sizes, and colors.)
My life is not a soap opera. But if yours is, I'll be tuning in tomorrow on Facebook to see how your world turns.
Right now there is a story on GH that involves four characters, Anna (the ex-secret agent turned police commissioner), Robert (also a secret agent and her ex-husband and the father of their child, Robin -who, by the way, is currently believed dead but is really being held prisoner in a Swiss hospital), Faison an evil villain who is wearing a rubber mask that makes him look exactly like one of Anna's other former husbands, Duke, who is the fourth person in the story also being held prisoner by Faison. Confused? Me too. Heck, I wasn't even sure how to punctuate the sentence. What's the best part of this story? Years ago all four characters were blown to smithereens in explosions. Anna and Robert even appeared as ghosts to advise and comfort their teenage daughter when her first lover died of AIDS and she was diagnosed with the HIV virus. So far, the teen lover has stayed dead....but everybody else who was blown up or burned to death was really alive all along!! There's an amazing clinic in Switzerland that seems able to put the body pieces together and kaboom! alive again!!
So, if your life is a soap opera, lucky you. Nobody you love, or yourself for that matter, will ever die...as long as there is someone to take the body pieces to that Swiss clinic.
Children on soap operas are another source of wonder. One wonders how the kids ever get to know their parents. Carly, for example, is always shacking up with somebody and she never has to worry about interrupting her trysts with a PTA meeting. The nanny takes care of all of that minutia. The kids never get sick, unless of course it is a major illness that actually refocuses the drama on the hospital set, instead of the docks where the shady mafia turned good guys operate their coffee business. And then, no matter what the mysterious illness, everybody recovers during sweeps month and moves on to the next mystery. That mystery being, how a five year old returns from the hospital or boarding school as an eighteen year old. One of the fun parts of soap operas is when a child no one knew they had mysteriously appears as a young adult in Port Charles. This usually happens around the time schools let out for the summer. It's totally believable though; I mean, after all, soap opera parents don't raise their kids so why should it be a surprise when one sneaks away or an extra kid shows up?
Yep, if your life was a soap opera you wouldn't have to mess with any of the trappings of child rearing. The perfect nanny would always be on call so you could do whatever you want. Beware, though, that when your kids come down to breakfast and they've suddenly aged ten or twelve years they will be emotionally messed up. Why not? After all, they were totally abandoned by their parents at crucial points in their development.
The best part of living a life that is a soap opera? You can literally stop the world and get off. Yep, in soap opera land you can leave your life and have a stand-in, the new you, take over. That stand-in will have all your memories, many of your mannerisms, and be able to handle all the events of your life as if they'd always been you. Or you'd always been them. Whatever. You can come back when you're ready. Kind of tempting, isn't it?
If you truly live a soap opera life, you are probably white, thin, and dressed in the latest haute couture. If you work, you can leave whenever you want to solve a major family crisis; you may own the latest in Smart phones, but why use a phone when a visit is so much more effective? You may have a few black neighbors (thanks to super couple Angie and Jesse), but don't expect to see many Asians or Hispanics. The Asian community in Port Charles usually springs to life around Chinese New Year, and then they're gone for another year. Hispanics materialize, speak with a bad accent, and then fade into the sunset. So, if you live a soap opera life, you're not culturally diverse. And that's a real shame. (Heck, even in Ceciltucky the people come in all shapes, sizes, and colors.)
My life is not a soap opera. But if yours is, I'll be tuning in tomorrow on Facebook to see how your world turns.
Friday, December 7, 2012
My Version of Oprah's Favorite Things
Every year, or maybe it's twice a year, Oprah celebrates herself and her wealth with a show dedicated to the luxuries only her money can buy. These are her favorite things, and she wants them to be ours. Me? I'm more of a raindrops on roses and whiskers on kittens kind of person. In my opinion, one doesn't have to be an Oprah to share one's favorite things, so today's blog is all about that which makes me smile. I hope you can relate and perhaps share some of your own guilty/non-guilty pleasures.
1. Food Let's get the obvious out of the way. We live in America, and one of its benefits/downfalls (depending on your outlook) is all the food available. I enjoy it. One of my favorites is genuine New York cheesecake. I'm a purist and like it plain, creamy, and thick...no strawberries for me; toppings ruin the experience. I also love my mother's snowball cookies, peppermint bark, coconut ice cream, Bomboy's raspberry chocolates -milk chocolate only, turkey dinners, fresh out of the oven melt-in-your-mouth cream filled donuts, Fisher's caramel (no nuts please) popcorn, frozen margaritas (no salt), and cheddar cheese curls. While high caloric food has proven not to be my friend, I can't help but love those treats.
2. Losing Weight LOL! I don't mean those same three or four pounds over and over again, but weight loss that makes a change. I am wearing jeans that didn't fit a year ago. Obviously, I haven't had as many run-ins with pleasure #1 as in the past.
3. The First Big Snow I love that first big thick snow that blankets the world with pure dense white fluff. I especially love it at night in December when it quiets the neighborhood and the snowflakes dance in the street lights. No blustery wind is a plus.
4. Live Theater I love it all, good or bad. I like to act in theater productions and I am an enthusiastic audience member. Give me a Broadway spectacle like Lion King or a Tidewater Player's version of Spelling Bee (any production with Chad LeFleur is a bonus), and I am happy. I will have seen two versions of Steel Magnolias within weeks of each other, and that's ok with me!
5. Flowers in Nature I love it when spring ends the dreary winter with blossoming pear trees, flowering lilac bushes, clumps of purple pansies, and sprouting tulips. Give me fragrant petunias to sniff all summer. Inside my house, I love tiny white chrysanthemums. Their perfume can hide the fact that an old dog lives there (Trixie, not me).
6. Good Books I read a lot. I enjoy most of what I read, but sometimes there is a book that I hate to see end because it's just the very best story I have ever read. When I come across one of those, I feel like a library lottery winner.
7. Television I watch a lot of it, and frankly, I enjoy it. I have watched Saturday Night Live since my college days and it still makes me laugh. I watched Luke and Laura get married when GH was General Hospital, and I still tune in today to see how my Port Charles peeps are faring. Grey's Anatomy is almost as good as a doctor's visit that ends with, Keep up the good work.
8. Vacations I love to go away to see the world or just to relax. I've been lucky to visit some memorable places: most of Europe, Kuala Lumpur, Bali, Singapore, Hong Kong, and China to name a few. Two of my favorite trips involved warmth and beaches. I went to Mexico for five days the summer after my father died. I still rank that as one of my best get-a-ways. Last February I went on a cruise to the Bahamas with the Paperbackswap gang. That was a great trip!! Every year I go to Allenberry for a weekend: theater, food, snow, friends and fun. Those three days combine lots of the things I love in one well-rounded vacation.
9. Winning I go to a lot of quarter auctions. Lately, they haven't been much fun and I realized it's because I haven't won anything. Heck, the last two times my number wasn't even called. But, I love to jump up and squeal, YES!! when I win something. Don't even get me started on winning at the casino. I once won $500 on a nickel Whoopi Goldberg machine. I have been trying for years to duplicate that adrenaline rush of hearing the bells ringing and seeing the hundred dollar bills being counted into the palm of my hand. I'm sure it will happen again. Somebody has to win, why not me?
10. Letters in the Mail As a voracious pen pal, I used to get these so often they were commonplace and expected. I had pen pals all over the world. Soldiers in Vietnam were entertained weekly by the silly unbosomings of a young girl (to paraphrase Anne Frank). My college mailbox had a daily reminder of the loved ones from whom I was separated. I once even got a letter from my Dad because Mom made him write to me (I know that because he told me in the letter). I have saved many of these letters. Now-a-days, I mostly communicate through emails and phone calls. But occasionally I find a real old-fashioned handwritten letter amongst the bills in my mailbox. What a thrill!! Thanks to Cathy, Margie, and Marilyn for still engaging in the lost art of letter writing and for engaging in it with me.
11. Dimes Finding these is very meaningful to me, and I plan soon to blog about them. Suffice it to say, they appear at the darndest times and remind me that my parents are still with me. I found one last night, and boy did I need it. Yep, dimes make me happy.
Enough for now. "When the dog bites, when the bees sting, when I'm feeling sad, I simply remember my favorite things and then I don't feel so bad." Thank you Sound of Music, one of my absolutely favorite musicals.
1. Food Let's get the obvious out of the way. We live in America, and one of its benefits/downfalls (depending on your outlook) is all the food available. I enjoy it. One of my favorites is genuine New York cheesecake. I'm a purist and like it plain, creamy, and thick...no strawberries for me; toppings ruin the experience. I also love my mother's snowball cookies, peppermint bark, coconut ice cream, Bomboy's raspberry chocolates -milk chocolate only, turkey dinners, fresh out of the oven melt-in-your-mouth cream filled donuts, Fisher's caramel (no nuts please) popcorn, frozen margaritas (no salt), and cheddar cheese curls. While high caloric food has proven not to be my friend, I can't help but love those treats.
2. Losing Weight LOL! I don't mean those same three or four pounds over and over again, but weight loss that makes a change. I am wearing jeans that didn't fit a year ago. Obviously, I haven't had as many run-ins with pleasure #1 as in the past.
3. The First Big Snow I love that first big thick snow that blankets the world with pure dense white fluff. I especially love it at night in December when it quiets the neighborhood and the snowflakes dance in the street lights. No blustery wind is a plus.
4. Live Theater I love it all, good or bad. I like to act in theater productions and I am an enthusiastic audience member. Give me a Broadway spectacle like Lion King or a Tidewater Player's version of Spelling Bee (any production with Chad LeFleur is a bonus), and I am happy. I will have seen two versions of Steel Magnolias within weeks of each other, and that's ok with me!
5. Flowers in Nature I love it when spring ends the dreary winter with blossoming pear trees, flowering lilac bushes, clumps of purple pansies, and sprouting tulips. Give me fragrant petunias to sniff all summer. Inside my house, I love tiny white chrysanthemums. Their perfume can hide the fact that an old dog lives there (Trixie, not me).
6. Good Books I read a lot. I enjoy most of what I read, but sometimes there is a book that I hate to see end because it's just the very best story I have ever read. When I come across one of those, I feel like a library lottery winner.
7. Television I watch a lot of it, and frankly, I enjoy it. I have watched Saturday Night Live since my college days and it still makes me laugh. I watched Luke and Laura get married when GH was General Hospital, and I still tune in today to see how my Port Charles peeps are faring. Grey's Anatomy is almost as good as a doctor's visit that ends with, Keep up the good work.
8. Vacations I love to go away to see the world or just to relax. I've been lucky to visit some memorable places: most of Europe, Kuala Lumpur, Bali, Singapore, Hong Kong, and China to name a few. Two of my favorite trips involved warmth and beaches. I went to Mexico for five days the summer after my father died. I still rank that as one of my best get-a-ways. Last February I went on a cruise to the Bahamas with the Paperbackswap gang. That was a great trip!! Every year I go to Allenberry for a weekend: theater, food, snow, friends and fun. Those three days combine lots of the things I love in one well-rounded vacation.
9. Winning I go to a lot of quarter auctions. Lately, they haven't been much fun and I realized it's because I haven't won anything. Heck, the last two times my number wasn't even called. But, I love to jump up and squeal, YES!! when I win something. Don't even get me started on winning at the casino. I once won $500 on a nickel Whoopi Goldberg machine. I have been trying for years to duplicate that adrenaline rush of hearing the bells ringing and seeing the hundred dollar bills being counted into the palm of my hand. I'm sure it will happen again. Somebody has to win, why not me?
10. Letters in the Mail As a voracious pen pal, I used to get these so often they were commonplace and expected. I had pen pals all over the world. Soldiers in Vietnam were entertained weekly by the silly unbosomings of a young girl (to paraphrase Anne Frank). My college mailbox had a daily reminder of the loved ones from whom I was separated. I once even got a letter from my Dad because Mom made him write to me (I know that because he told me in the letter). I have saved many of these letters. Now-a-days, I mostly communicate through emails and phone calls. But occasionally I find a real old-fashioned handwritten letter amongst the bills in my mailbox. What a thrill!! Thanks to Cathy, Margie, and Marilyn for still engaging in the lost art of letter writing and for engaging in it with me.
11. Dimes Finding these is very meaningful to me, and I plan soon to blog about them. Suffice it to say, they appear at the darndest times and remind me that my parents are still with me. I found one last night, and boy did I need it. Yep, dimes make me happy.
Enough for now. "When the dog bites, when the bees sting, when I'm feeling sad, I simply remember my favorite things and then I don't feel so bad." Thank you Sound of Music, one of my absolutely favorite musicals.
Sunday, December 2, 2012
Seasons Greetings??
Happy Holidays or Merry Christmas? This, in case you haven't noticed, is a major issue for debate this time of the year. I once asked someone why she got so upset to hear Happy Holidays as a greeting instead of Merry Christmas. She said they were trying to take the Christ out of Christmas. Ok.... so then I asked her who "they" were. People will answer with the Jews, the Muslims, the atheists (does that need a capital letter?). Her response? and the one I hear most often? "They" is the government. Sigh.
I don't believe anyone can take Christ out of your Christmas unless you allow Him to be taken. In my opinion, many of the people celebrating this occasion have allowed just that.
How many people dread the holiday season because of the amount of work it takes to buy the gifts, decorate the inside of the house, decorate the outside of the house, cook the food, attend the parties, deal with the hyper kids, socialize with the crazy relatives and so on and so on. Women especially are driven to the point of sheer exhaustion as they are determined to create the "perfect Christmas" for their families and friends. That idea of perfect is somewhere between a Martha Stewart special edition magazine and a movie like "White Christmas." That's a lot of pressure on a homemaker; and how many of them only utter the Lord's name while cussing all the work to be done? The original birthday took place in a dirty manger without a whole lot of fuss. Remember?
This time of the year brings a lot of complaints about how "commercial" the Christmas holiday has become. Well how the heck did that happen? We did it to ourselves...no "they" is responsible. How many people cut short their quiet Thanksgiving dinner to get to the real event of the day? Black Friday shopping, a day early. The news was full of stories of people camping out in order to be the first to buy the latest trendy gift at a reduced price. More "fun" were the reports of folks being trampled when the mall's doors opened or of beatings in the parking lot over some transgression of the unspoken rules of super shopping. I don't think anyone was saying "Happy Holidays" or "Merry Christmas." More likely, what you could hear was, "Get outta my way." Why do we do this to ourselves?
I am no great philosopher, but I believe too many of us need to stop being annoyed/angry about what "they" are doing to take the Christ out of Christmas, and reevaluate our expectations for the season while taking personal responsibility for the way we celebrate the birth of the Lord. If you are anti-commercialism, then think twice before getting into a cutthroat competition for the last toy-of-the-season on the store shelves. If you think that accumulating a debt that will take you until Easter to repay is what makes Christmas special, then stop complaining that you don't have enough money. If you think the month of December is solely owned by Christ-believers, then get over it. Many people enjoy a secular Christmas that has little to do with Jesus, and that's just fine. The Elf on the Shelf, Santa Claus in every mall, Grandma Got Run Over By a Reindeer, Lifetime movies that have reinvented Christmas as the aphrodisiac to marriage, these have become holiday traditions about as far removed from Christ as you can get. Jews celebrate Hanukkah, and despite the beliefs of some outside the religion, the main focus of the holiday is not the eight days of gifts. Kwanzaa began being celebrated in the 70's I think. While I don't observe it, I certainly believe others are entitled to their holiday without the snorts and sneers of non-participants. We all have New Year's Eve in common! Ain't that grand!
Who really cares to split hairs over what form of cheerful greetings are offered? Take them in the spirit of the season and return the kindness. You'll be glad you did.
I don't believe anyone can take Christ out of your Christmas unless you allow Him to be taken. In my opinion, many of the people celebrating this occasion have allowed just that.
How many people dread the holiday season because of the amount of work it takes to buy the gifts, decorate the inside of the house, decorate the outside of the house, cook the food, attend the parties, deal with the hyper kids, socialize with the crazy relatives and so on and so on. Women especially are driven to the point of sheer exhaustion as they are determined to create the "perfect Christmas" for their families and friends. That idea of perfect is somewhere between a Martha Stewart special edition magazine and a movie like "White Christmas." That's a lot of pressure on a homemaker; and how many of them only utter the Lord's name while cussing all the work to be done? The original birthday took place in a dirty manger without a whole lot of fuss. Remember?
This time of the year brings a lot of complaints about how "commercial" the Christmas holiday has become. Well how the heck did that happen? We did it to ourselves...no "they" is responsible. How many people cut short their quiet Thanksgiving dinner to get to the real event of the day? Black Friday shopping, a day early. The news was full of stories of people camping out in order to be the first to buy the latest trendy gift at a reduced price. More "fun" were the reports of folks being trampled when the mall's doors opened or of beatings in the parking lot over some transgression of the unspoken rules of super shopping. I don't think anyone was saying "Happy Holidays" or "Merry Christmas." More likely, what you could hear was, "Get outta my way." Why do we do this to ourselves?
I am no great philosopher, but I believe too many of us need to stop being annoyed/angry about what "they" are doing to take the Christ out of Christmas, and reevaluate our expectations for the season while taking personal responsibility for the way we celebrate the birth of the Lord. If you are anti-commercialism, then think twice before getting into a cutthroat competition for the last toy-of-the-season on the store shelves. If you think that accumulating a debt that will take you until Easter to repay is what makes Christmas special, then stop complaining that you don't have enough money. If you think the month of December is solely owned by Christ-believers, then get over it. Many people enjoy a secular Christmas that has little to do with Jesus, and that's just fine. The Elf on the Shelf, Santa Claus in every mall, Grandma Got Run Over By a Reindeer, Lifetime movies that have reinvented Christmas as the aphrodisiac to marriage, these have become holiday traditions about as far removed from Christ as you can get. Jews celebrate Hanukkah, and despite the beliefs of some outside the religion, the main focus of the holiday is not the eight days of gifts. Kwanzaa began being celebrated in the 70's I think. While I don't observe it, I certainly believe others are entitled to their holiday without the snorts and sneers of non-participants. We all have New Year's Eve in common! Ain't that grand!
Happy Holidays! Seasons Greetings! Merry Christmas!
Who really cares to split hairs over what form of cheerful greetings are offered? Take them in the spirit of the season and return the kindness. You'll be glad you did.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)