The Best of Family Christmases Past

Over the years I have had many wonderful Christmases. But when I think of Christmases past, I think of one picture in my box of old, yellowed, crinkled family photographs, a picture that brings floods of sweet memories of Mom and Daddy and our family Christmas traditions.

Our Christmas ritual began with cutting our own tree. In the early years, on the day before Christmas, we trudged through the snow through our “back forty” over to a nice stand of evergreens just waiting for our annual visit. We took ever so much time going back and forth between the trees considering the merits of each one. The younger kids, Little Bobby, me, Charley, and Judie just ran around making noise and playing hide-n-seek (with maybe a snowball fight or two) while the bigger kids, Beverley, Bill, Shirley, and Adam did the actual tree hunt. Joyce and Joanne were already off working at their jobs, so they missed this fun.

There was one rule on these tree-hunting expeditions: no bickering. We could voice our opinion, but we couldn’t argue.

Even so, Mom always had the last word on the Christmas tree choice. She was very particular. She didn’t want any old scrawny tree.  Her tree had to be just right, nice and plump and tall and rounded on each side, not too tall, and not too short. If a tree was lopsided, we didn’t cut it. If the spaces between the branches were too wide, we didn’t cut it. If the branches weren’t evenly distributed top to bottom, we didn’t cut it. This was not an easy job, but somehow we always managed the find just the right tree to make Mom happy.

Then when we found the perfect tree, the only one that would do, the older boys or Daddy cut it down. We dragged it through the snow back to the house.  But Mom wasn’t ready for it to come in the house. First, the snow had to melt off the tree, and second, we had to clean the house to make it ready for the festivities to come.

Soon enough, we could decorate the tree with strings of colored lights and brightly colored glass ornaments. We placed those on the tree with great care, under Mom’s supervision, making sure that each section of the tree had the correct proportion of the various colors. Sometimes we strung popcorn or cranberries to drape on the tree.

Then the final step. Hanging the silver tinsel. And mind you, this had to be done to Mom’s specifications. We could not just throw the tinsel at the tree and hope for the best. (Only darling Little Bobby could get away with that!) No. If anyone did that, other than Little Bobby, they couldn’t help trim the tree. We had to hang each strand individually, with only a little overhang of one end of the tinsel, so that the other end could hang down long, all shimmery and delightful. And perfect.

When all was said and done, and the kids finally sent to bed, Mom and Daddy wrapped presents that had been hidden somewhere in the house, basement, or garage until the wee hours of the morning.  They probably only got to bed a few hours before we littlest ones woke up eager to start the festivities. We stumbled down the stairs at dawn’s early light to get our first morning look at our beautiful tree and the mounds of presents under it. But we couldn’t open anything yet. That was the rule. We had to wait until Mom and Daddy came downstairs and got some coffee, and Mom had to put the giant turkey loaded with celery, onion, crusty bread, parsley, sage, rosemary, and thyme in the oven. Ummm, yum.  The smells teased us for hours.

Then we could go at the presents, but only one at a time, mind you. That was the rule.

I remember I wished and wished and wished that I would get a doll for Christmas that year and maybe even a doll cradle or bed.

Christmas Morning (Front: Bill, Little Bobby, and Janice; Back Judie, Charley)

And look, I did get that doll (far right in picture) even a dollie bed. I was one happy little girl. All of us kids got things we treasured. (I remember us kids singing “A Frog Went A-Courting,” on and on, um-hmmm, accompanied by Bill’s new ukulele.)

My doll has long been forgotten, but the precious memories of my parents linger on. Christmas becomes a time of remembering the past with nostalgia and even a bit of sadness…missing our parents who loved us and cared for us, and who worked so hard to provide the shelter, clothing, and food we needed to grow up to be responsible, contributing adults. And now, along with our parents, we miss several siblings, Joyce, Joanne, and Little Bobby who have passed in the past few years. Big families bring great joy throughout our lives, but later in life, as family members pass away, our hearts fill with sadness. Our once big family is shrinking.

Now we siblings all have children and grandchildren of our own, but they are spread far and wide throughout the United States, so Christmas is a lonelier time, and we miss the closeness that shared family traditions bring. Even so, we think of each other and remember our wonderful Christmases past.  There’s nothing better than our Christmas memories…except, that is, for making new ones.

Meow for now… =^;^>=

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NaBloPoMo 29. #WANAFriday. Clips and Coin (2008)

The WANAFriday prompt for this week comes from Tami Clayton.  Tami can usually be found Taking Tea in the Kasbah.

Tami Clayton

The #wanafriday blog prompt for November 29, 2013 is: Dig through your bag, couch cushions, backpack, man purse, satchel, or scan the floor of your car for the first coin you find. Look at the year printed on it and then write about what you were doing that year.

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On my desk sits a small Pyrex dish with a collection of coins and clips.

Look. Right there on top. A shiny 2008 Oklahoma quarter. 2008. Five years ago. If my memory serves me correctly, in 2008 I was…well, I’d better check my picture files and see what I find there. They will jog my memory.

1. Family reunion in South Carolina

My brother Bill and sister-in-law Patty live near Charleston, South Carolina, and that seemed to be a good spot for our Kroey Krewe to gather for a reunion. Siblings came from New Jersey, Texas, Florida, and California.

We enjoyed visiting various Low County plantations, salt marshes, and tidal creeks and imagined ourselves in novels set in the area.

2.  Reunion with friends in Florida.

I met up with two very special friends in Florida, Kit and Ruth, from my days of working at Hong Kong International School. In just a few days together, we caught up on all the news and formed some new memories.

We had fun on an airboat looking for wildlife in the Everglades. We were not disappointed. This fearsome fellow gave us the evil eye, warning us to get out of his territory, but he soon tired and swam away.

3. Family Time in Ocean City, NJ

Of course, we had beach and boardwalk fun at Ocean City, NJ. Cuzzies from far corners of the US got a chance to meet and play. You never know who will become a mermaid or dragon at the beach. This time it was Mandy’s friend, Hakeem who became the mermaid. Sorry about that, Hakeem.

4. Dining Out at Home

 Back at home, we dined at the local Atlantic County Community College’s Academy of Culinary Arts with our neighborhood friends from time to time. The students in the culinary program cooked, served, and chatted with us over delicious multi-course buffet dinners at the school sponsored restaurant, Careme’s. We go to Careme’s several times a year and always enjoy the exceptional food, the restaurant atmosphere, and the congenial students.

The students at the culinary school gather in the student-run restaurant, Careme’s, for cheers from the dining room guests.

5. Trips to Florida.

On one of many annual trips to Florida to visit family and friends, Ken and I couldn’t pass up this photo op near Port St. Lucie on the east coast. Other times we visited North For Myers to visit Ken’s sister.

All in all, I remember 2008 as being a happy year, with good times shared with good friends and family.

Look here for another WANAFriday Writer and her coin year:

Ellen V. Gregory, My 1988

What was your best year?

 

NaBloPoMo 8: WANAFriday: What Would I Do?

NaBloPoMo=National Blog Posting Month. Challenge: Write a post a day in November.
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WANA=We Are Not Alone, a group of bloggers who provide mutual support for our writing and blogging efforts. Shepherded by by Kristen Lamb.
WANA Challenge: Write a #WANAFriday post every Friday with a prompt posted by one of our members.

This week’s #wanafriday question/theme comes from WANAite, Cora Ramos.

How did the last book you read change you, or not. What do you want from a good book?

In recent weeks, I have posted several reviews on books I have recently read:

The Red Kimono, Jan Morrill

The House I Loved, Tatiana de Rosnay

Light Between the Oceans, M. L. Stedman

I found each of these books to be well-written and each had a significant message.

I wouldn’t say that these books changed me, but I must admit that I have thought about their messages a number times since finishing them. How would I hold up under these circumstances? What decisions would I make when faced with these incomprehensible challenges?

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In The Red Kimono, a Japanese family living in San Francisco in 1941, faces discrimination, character assassination, and brutal loss of freedom through no fault of their own.

The story, written by Jan Morrill, relates events that happened in her own family’s world. In reading this book, you face the reality of war-time human interactions and shake your head. How could this happen in our own country? Both major and minor characters struggle with the complexities of a world gone crazy with fear and hate. The characters each learn something in their struggle to survive in their pain and suffering. And the characters have lessons for the reader, too. It is a powerful story, beautifully told.

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The House I Loved by Tatiana de Rosnay is historical fiction, set in Paris, France in the 1860s, when a powerful government under Emperor Napoleon III  decided to modernize Paris by tearing down entire quaint neighborhoods and rebuilding with grand boulevards and modern architecture.

This touching story relates how people from these intimate neighborhoods coped with the change: the young and realistic coped and moved on; the elderly suffered and struggled with overwhelming change in their lives.

Rose Bazelet decided to fight the modernization incursion in her little neighborhood in her own way, and in the meantime, she confronted long-held secrets. The book, written in letters to her late husband, Armand, describe the horror of the destruction of near-by neighborhoods. Soon the destruction reaches her own dearly-loved neighborhood. It’s coming closer and closer to Rose’s house. Now it’s time…

Tatiana de Rosnay, named one of the top three fiction writers in Europe in 2010, wrote NYT  bestsellers Sarah’s Key and A Secret Kept.

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M.L. Stedman’s book, Light Between Oceans, presents a compelling moral dilemma for a young, childless couple, Tom and Isabel Sherbourne, who have suffered multiple miscarriages in their short marriage. Isabel’s emotional well-being is tied up in these miscarriages.

The lighthouse keeper has emotional problems of his own dealing with his memories of battles in Europe in WWI. He was one of the lucky ones who arrived home still in one piece, but his memories of battles and close friends who died there, torment him.

Now living on an isolated lighthouse island off the coast of Australia, the couple discovers a dinghy on the beach with a dead man and a live baby in it. How could this be? Is it an answer to Isabel’s prayers and pleading for a child? They can’t possibly fathom why, but here is a live baby that needs care. Is it their responsibility to care for this baby? What is their responsibility in this situation?

The decisions they make have long-ranging consequences. This book is both compelling and heart-breaking.

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Why did I like these books?

1. Historical fiction (or books with historical settings) are among my favorites. I love reading about other times and other places.

2. Each one of these books has a compelling story, with complications that challenged the main character’s (and even minor character’s) whole lives and belief systems. These books raise many questions:

How do people react when their worlds fall apart?

Do they rely on their past moral instruction, or do they make it up as they go along.

What are the consequences do they face when going with their hearts and not their reason?

How do people cope with tragedy in their lives? Do they stand up to and go on? Do they fall apart?

What character traits belong to each group?

Would we be like this person or that person?

3. These books give many hours of pleasurable reading, although the tension, at times, runs high.

We don’t know how we would react in these extreme situations, but we hope we would act in accordance with our own long-help beliefs, values, and principles.

The Last Meow

Yes, Missy Jan, I know you like to read, but could you just let me finish my breakfast in peace? Please? I have a busy day scheduled. After I eat, I will play, sleep, then eat again. Let me get started!

Photo: Crash the Cat by Kathy Cherry

Meow for now! =<^;^>=

#WANAFriday: Childhood Homes

WANAFriday prompt for October 18. Write about a house you have loved.

Tatiana de Rosnay has written a fiction book called The House I Loved about Rose Bazelet in France in the 1860s when her house was to be destroyed in the reconstruction of Paris into a modern city. “Necessary progress,” Napoleon III called it.

Rose loved her house and the precious memories held in it, but as she watched the destruction of her neighborhood coming ever closer to her own house, she made a vow. She wrote a letter to her departed husband, telling him of the destruction of their home and memories, and finally, after all these years, telling him the devastating secret she had kept hidden in her heart.

. . .

This book made me think of the houses that I have lived in and loved.

Here’s the house I lived in until I was 18-years-old. At that time, went off to college, and somehow never went home again to live until forty years later. That year my Mom passed away, and the old homestead went up on the market for sale. My brother, Adam, lived in the house after Mom passed away, and I joined him there a few months later. I ended up buying the house from my siblings and renovating it. Many great memories here.

My childhood home

Mom grew up in the house pictured below. It is about two miles from my childhood home. My grandparents raised chickens and turkeys and had a large vegetable garden. Families were self-sufficient at that time (early 1900s), lived near each other, and took care of each other. I remember going down to visit my aunts and uncles in this house on hot summer nights. The adults sat inside drinking iced tea and reviewing the news of the family and the world, and the kids ran around outside catching fireflies, playing baseball, or just making noise in general.

My Mom’s childhood home (picture taken in 2000)

 Here is Mom’s house in the early 1900s.

Mom’s childhood home in early 1900s.

Life is different now. My family is spread far and wide, and I don’t get to see them as often as I would like. And as we age, we lose family members. That is probably the hardest bit of all. From time to time, I drive past my old house and my Mom’s old house and relive some of the memories held there. Maybe there were no devastating secrets, but memories were there nonetheless. Good memories. Nostalgic memories. Family memories.

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Read Tatiana’s de Rosnay’s excellent book and see how it inspires you to review the houses in your past.

The Last Meow

She forgot to tell you how many cats lived at both of these houses. Generations of cats. Kittens galore. And we had real work to do: chasing mice in the barn, sleeping in the sun, and entertaining all the grandchildren that came around to visit.  A basket of kitties was a common sight!

Meow for now.  =<^;^>=

Here are other #WANAFriday responses for this prompt:

Siri Paulson: Childhood Home

How about you? What house have you loved? What place have you loved?

WANAFriday: Witches on the Prowl

The WANAFriday prompt for Friday, October 11, comes from Kim Griffin.  (Delayed post!)

Witches ~ What images does this conjure up?

Deep in the woods of NJ, I found this triad of witches, no doubt conjuring up their next evil deeds, their cauldron brewing in the background. I could hear them snickering and cackling and chortling over their dubious devious designs. I could only pick out a word or two here and there of their conversations  (“tasty morsels,” “scaredy-cat kid porridge,” “brat soup,” “leg of kid,” “liver pâté,” and “jellied hearts”). The witches had big plans.

Silly children on a school trip did not take this situation seriously. They gawked and took pictures, even though their lives were in serious, even mortal, danger. Oh well, kids think they are invulnerable to bad things. The witches, itching to spring into action on a secret signal from their leader, must have been thinking: “Fresh young things for lunch! Yum!”

I snuck up for a closer look.

Then I took a look in their cauldron. No doubt, the witches were already planning to have a tasty lunch. (Well, the kids finally ran away, so the triad of trickery were stuck with the much tougher boiled crocs.)

Okay, here’s the truth: Before I left for a vacation in California recently, a friend and I visited Grounds for Sculpture, an exquisite 35-acre park located at 18 Fairgrounds Road in Trenton, New Jersey. We found these witchy, bigger-than-life statues among the garden sculptures. What an astounding place. We were surprised and awed at the variety of sculpture, the beauty of the gardens, the whimsical nature of some of the sculptures, and the humor in the displays. This is a very special place for a day trip. We had our own delicious lunch at the Rats Café on the Grounds for Sculpture property. (Rats Café from The Wind and The Willows.) Definitely go visit this place!

The following video will give you a good view of the Grounds for Structure:

WANAFriday Posts

Here are some witchy views from other WANAites.

Kim Griffin: The Many Faces of Witches
Liv Rancourt: #WanaFriday Witches
Dianna Bell: On the Virtues of Buggering Hedgehogs
Tami Clayton: Dear Benedict. On Witchcraftery, Living on a Prayer, and the Power of Enough

Happy Witching!