Okay, let it snow…

***

We knew this would happen, and “all the sudden” here it is! December 1st arrived yesterday and brought with it a brief heavy snow, so it’s official: For those who celebrate, Christmas is on its way and so is winter. I played the Old Card and chose to observe the first snow of the season by abstaining from the gym and my Monday workout, which turns out to have been the wise decision. When Kim got home from pickleball he said the streets were crazy and so were the drivers, and then I read that parts of town looked like a parking lot. This lil’ troublemaker didn’t need to be leaving tracks out there, so home and fireplace it was and it was lovely.

By now you know I’m not a holiday fanatic, or even much of a fan, but I do love the seasons, warts and all. Cold, heat, rain, snow, all good in their time because I’m fortunate enough to have a safe place that’s in out of the weather, and when I walk around town I realize what a big deal that is. The world has changed immeasurably in the new millennium, but the milk of human kindness hasn’t entirely soured yet. Every day on our local Facebook page I see proof that we still know how to love each other. Some typical posts:

“I have a bag of potatoes I need to share with someone while they’re still nice. Can you use them?”

“I found a wallet on the sidewalk today. If you’ve lost one, please provide pertinent details and we’ll git ‘er done.”

“I’m new in town, single mom, and my car’s sitting in my driveway with a flat tire. Can somebody recommend a reliable service for me to call?” (Gives general area of town.)

Followed quickly by: “Ma’am, I’m close to your neighborhood, I’ll be over in just a few minutes, no charge.”

“I have one less working guy to feed this evening, so if you need/want a plate of hot food, stop and get it on your way home.”

And on and on every day, the little stops and starts, the deep breaths, the choices made, the life sustained. They’re the golden threads, the tiny veins and capillaries that nourish this great human mating ball and keep us from annihilating our species. They’re the stuff life is actually made of and we don’t see a fraction of it.

On this sunshiny, sparkly day, though, things seem a little clearer… just for a bit… and it feels nice. I still have enough Pollyanna left to hope for a profusion of sparkly days ahead… and to hope we’ll know what to do with such abundance.

**

**

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Ah yes, the New Year…

***

This morning, because her words reached me and are doing their intended work, I’m borrowing from Rachel Alana (R.A Falconer), Midwives of the Soul, with deep appreciation for her gift.

**

~ This year, dear friends, may we all lose weight!

The weight of expectations. The weight of self-criticism. The weight of disconnect that fills us with a deeper hunger. The weight of not always loving. The weight of a worn and weary world. Of not always accepting, seeing, and inhabiting this precious and sacred body that we’re in.

~ This year, dear friends, may we all exercise!

…our holy will! Our sacred sense of purpose. Our vision and hard-earned wisdom. Our discernment and our shining hearts. In ways that enrich connections, with our bodies, our souls and those we love. And even to the world. ❤

~ This year, ah yes… may we all start the work of quitting…

…that collective Kool-Aid. The negative self-talk. The small-assed living. That cacophony of cockatoo-voices that drown out our souls. And old habits: Those used to stop us hearing our pain, our disappointments, and all things much better loved, seen and accepted right down to the very bottom ~ and to find true freedom, through a connection with our deepest souls.

And…

~ This fine new year, (well, here’s the best…) May we all be rich!

Yes, utterly and completely rich. Wildly and unapologetically. Rich in love. Life. Connection with one another and all that really matters. Filled to the brim and bubbling over; more again and spilling over that. Full of laughter, acceptance, joy, and less of worry. Less of sorrow ~

Rich in renewed experience, of a whole new year! ❤

Happy 2025, dear friends!

~Rachel Alana (R.A Falconer)

Midwives of the Soul

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Fractured fairytales…

***

Once upon a time, strange as it may sound, Christmas happened in a world that wasn’t ready for it, making things discombobulated and odd from the start of the season. Planet LOOK.AT.US. was out of sorts and feeling aloof from the whole affair. Things were not right in the kingdom and no one knew how to fix it. Such a different holiday it was shaping up to be, with far too much sadness in the mix.

But wait… since the task of Christmas is to lighten hearts and gladden the soul, I must give you, instead, the story of The Four Farmer’s Daughters… have you heard this one? Get another cup of coffee and pull up a chair, it goes like this:

**

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We were festive…

Just not THIS festive.

***

Christmas Day this year was sweet and special in too many ways to list, but you know I’ll try. It’s hard to sort out what the whole thing is about for me now, but what remains… always… from the past and forever… is the love. It’s entirely a feel-good day if we can do it right.

Rita was here, she and I wore our Christmas jammies, the Chiefs won, and dinner was amazing.

The traditional cheese ball I hadn’t made in 30 years. The recipe holds up.

**

Salmon filets in cream sauce with spinach and cherry tomatoes over Jasmine rice; candied carrots, and cheesy biscuits. And vino. Dessert was warm fruit tarts with ice cream.

**

The usual suspects.

**

Today we’re being hugged by a heavy fog and indoors is where it’s at. Perfect.

Let quiet and peace soak into your bones, and savor every blessing.

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It’s Christmas Eve Eve…

***

The passage of months, weeks, days, and hours delivers us once again to The Holidays, a time of year we celebrate religiously whether we are or not. Christmas is such a fusion of new and ancient traditions, from pagan to Holy of Holies, it’s hard to know just what to make of it as an adult. If I were a novice looking in, I’d be totally baffled by all the cognitive disconnect involved and mystified as to what Baby Jesus has to do with singing mice in Christmas hats, and other flights of fancy. I would also be troubled by how militant Jesus appears to have become while I wasn’t noticing.

Christmas Past was always about family more than anything else. There was abundant food, a pile of packages under the tree, music, aromas, laughter, and hugs, all cooking down to a big happy mess called family. At least once every year we were many and we were mighty… and that feeling of belonging to something bigger than yourself can’t be replicated, so I miss it. Time extracts an inevitable toll on family dynasties… we become citizens of the world, taking our children and grandchildren with us, until the connections pull taut and start to fray. We don’t know each other, which is standard for this time in history but makes for a little melancholy nonetheless.

Christmas, whatever it may be, always arrives on time, even in war-torn areas and battle-weary hearts of every kind. It’s a few hours, a day, a week, in which we seek to make ourselves whole and new again before we screw up yet another year of living. Sigh… “it’s the most wonderful time of the year.”

And it really is, regardless. I have no idea what the whole thing represents to most people now, but the lights and decorations, the pictures of children’s happy faces, and the generous atmosphere improve the scene during an otherwise mostly gray season, no matter what.

It’s gray and chill this morning and nearly all the trees have finally dropped their leaves except the sugar maples, so it’s almost time to make the cookies and dust the chimney before Midnight Mass.

**

A sincere Merry Christmas to all who celebrate, and wishes for a good and safe year ahead.

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Let the light always remind us…

***

… that the sun will soon return.

***

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Things that matter…

***

Holidays are hard. There… I said it. As kids we rarely pick up on the nuances of family gatherings, we’re just there to see our cousins and eat fun stuff. And then life changes, as it is wont to do, and we learn how to celebrate on a different scale, how to hold room for our memories and feelings, how to appreciate everything. It’s a lot.

Some years ago we stopped trying to live up to the noisy food-laden holidays of yore and brought the house down a little with simple, and simply wonderful, comfort food, the National Dog Show, football, the chill weather, and much laughter. So as it turns out life is in great part about taming expectations. Kim and Rita cook and bicker in the kitchen while I keep myself available for mindless tasks, and behold, a luscious meal appears. It works seamlessly, and we’re appropriately thankful for various things all day, no stress required. I love it. The mood couldn’t be more comfortable.

Still. Our hearts remember the old times, and we think of them as having been magical… everybody happy and full of love, hugs all around, nothing but peace and goodwill. With everything hanging in the balance this year, we yearn for the unity and unconditional love we think we remember, and we try to go back to a place that was never really there… kind of like Brigadoon. Silly us.

If you’re still with me, thank you for indulging this minor fit of melancholy, which I shall now attempt to put back in the box with the double-secret code on the lock. Nobody needs that stuff on a day we’re just grateful to spend together, alive and well, so tomorrow will be about the right-now, the life we have, and the people we love.

I wish the same for you, complete with everything you need.

**

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Moving right along…

***

How was New Year’s Day? Pretty sure we did ours right. Bagels for breakfast, tuna sliders for lunch, and crockpot chicken n’ gravy with mashed potatoes for dinner because every lazy day is about the food. And in between, nothing but wall to wall football, which I love because I watch the parts I’m interested in while locked into iPad cruise mode in the background. We saw actual blue sky yesterday, and I do believe we’re being graced with it this morning as well. Let’s do this.

In yesterday’s post I talked a little bit about my grandmothers. We shared a farmstead with my dad’s parents, my mom’s parents were thirty miles away, and there was a great-grandmother living ten miles from us who was a pretty amazing person in her own right. I’m privileged to have grown up with them, been loved by them, been influenced by each of them in unique ways, and I owe them a tremendous debt of gratitude. My dad’s mom, born in 1889, told me stories of her mother-in-law, my great-grandmother Salome, who, among other exploits, faced down Confederate soldiers who commandeered her Indiana farm. The only Civil War battle in Indiana was the Battle of Corydon, in which Morgan’s Raiders fought, and Corydon was the nearest settled town to the family farm. Great-grandma Sally stood on her porch armed with a rifle and tried to limit the damage being done to her property and belongings, until she saw the futility and gave in to cooking her precious livestock for the invading soldiers. They camped there until they’d gone through all the provisions before moving on, and Grandma Sally lived to fight another day.

I watched and heard about these women throughout my younger years, marked how they handled the things life gave them, kept detailed mental notes, and it’s all served me well, insofar as I’ve stayed present for it.

Facts established after decades of observation:

  • Life doesn’t get easier as we age. It gets different, it finds new challenges to throw at us, it keeps us on our toes to the end if we’re paying attention.
  • On the other hand, there’s a certain measure of peace to be found in laying down the things that are not ours to carry anymore. That doesn’t make us unnecessary in the world, it just puts the reins in the right hands.
  • As we gradually age out, there will always be things we don’t “get,” according to everyone younger. I’m losing the desire to ‘splain, but we do get it. We simply need that self-justifying energy elsewhere.
  • This morning I’d love to sit with all the women who directly preceded me and compare notes. “Is this how you felt when… ” “What did you do when… ” “What were your greatest frustrations and joys?” I’d ask if they’re disappointed to see women’s rights in basically the same place they each left them. I’ve outlived my mom by almost ten years so far, and she was writing about that subject twenty years prior to that, so gird yourselves for the never-ending haul, women of all ages.
  • The older I get, the less I talk. There’s always something I could say, but if I’m going to keep up my habit of learning one new thing a day it requires listening, which I find infinitely relaxing. DISCLAIMER: Depends on who’s talking and in what tone of voice.
  • As a lifetime sentimentalist who invariably had trouble letting go, turning loose of what isn’t meant for me is one of my new favorite things. This includes a past full of people I will never see again. Knowing I can be a psychic handful, I make it a point to let people off the hook in their dealings with me, face-to-face or online, thus I say a lot of silent goodbyes. Nothing personal, I just like REAL, so if someone finally exceeds the limits of my meds, or I feel like I’m being a nuisance, I slip out the back…

You just slip out the back, Jack
Make a new plan, Stan
You don’t need to be coy, Roy
Just get yourself free
Hop on the bus, Gus
You don’t need to discuss much
Just drop off the key, Lee
And get yourself free

**

I already broke a 2024 intention this morning, so you know what THAT means! Get back on the horse and ride, girlie, life goes on so go WITH it.

I wish you personal success with any and all resolutions, intentions, plans, and dreams for the coming year. Most of all, I wish you joy.

**

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Ready, boys & girls?

***

New year, who dis? Waking up to the seventy-sixth New Year’s Day I’ve witnessed so far, and feeling good about it. 2024 is my Now or Never Year, not that I think I’m running out of chances, but it’s simply time. Time to stop saying “I need to” and just do it. To stop with the “I shoulds” and do it. Stop waiting for… whatever… and do it NOW. I have a list.

I hope you’ll pat yourself on the back for the prep you did in 2023 to get ready for today and what follows. Indeed everything that happened last year was groundwork for this one, good or bad. I’m congratulating myself for finally sticking to the script and transferring small truckloads of idle goods into needier hands. I’ll never have to deal with any of it again, and hopefully somebody’s benefitting. As I knew it would, the process has freed up my mind for other, more satisfying things, making me actually feel younger rather than older with this changing of the guard.

This morning I’m taking time to acknowledge, appreciate, and finish processing the things in 2023 that tested me to my limits. There were pitfalls and lessons and plenty of reminders of fallibility in every direction, which have only emboldened me to pay better attention going forward, establish my boundaries with the greater world, and keep moving. I’m feeling grateful to my grandmothers, all of them, for the grit and bravery they transmitted to an entire family line. In great part they’re why I’m still here today after a tough set of years now behind us, so I’ll be continuing to implement their strengths wherever possible. You be strong, too, in the year ahead, and spellbound by peace.

**

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I resolve…

***

Do you make New Year’s resolutions, and if so what’s your track record? Every December I used to make a whole-ass list of things I aspired to do and be, and every year I was lucky to make it to the champagne before all was lost. At the end of 2022, I realized it was time to get a clue so I made just a solitary promise to myself… that I would savor and appreciate that first sip of coffee every single morning of 2023. I’m gratified to tell you that with two mornings remaining I haven’t once neglected to give thanks in my heart to Kim for brewing my morning Rx and to Jesús in Columbia who picked the beans. Simplicity and sincerity seem to be key to resolutions, and having observed how it all went over the course of an entire year I’m feeling emboldened to choose TWO worthy goals for 2024, neither of which will be named until 2025, or never. I’ll also be keeping my habit of coffee gratitude, as it’s a sweet one to cultivate and true thankfulness has to start somewhere meaningful.

Whether or not you’re putting it in the form of a vow, what do you want most for your own life and others’ in the coming year? Beyond the status quo I mean. Who doesn’t want world peace and tacos? What would set in motion the best sorts of events and changes for you, and what are you willing to do to make that happen? You’re thinking about it, right, have been since we realized the holiday season was upon us? Go back a sentence or two up there and understand that we’re not talking about change just for shits and giggles, but the kind of awareness that determines the direction we’re headed. It matters, always, and this is a handy time to reassess. Maybe keep this thought uppermost, though…

**

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Moving right along…

***

We woke up to a dusting of snow everywhere except streets and sidewalks, and now (9am) the flakes are falling thick and fast. A few hours late for a white Christmas, but welcome anyway, soothing, and predicted to last into the wee hours on Wednesday. We MAY see some accumulation out of all that, but so far it’s settling like rain.

The Day After any major human observance usually provides for a bit of downtime, thanks to the inevitable sudden stop, when my thoughts turn to years past, other times, things seen, lessons learned, memories made. This Christmas Day was beyond sweet, other than the ignominious losses by all our football teams, but ce la vie. Rita suggested the menu, Kim cooked it all to perfection, and it was so stellar as to temporarily wipe the taste of defeat from our mouths.

  • Grilled Salmon Filets
  • Pasta in Creamed Pesto Sauce
  • Roasted Asparagus
  • Crostini

After dinner and between football heartbreaks, we played a hilarious game of Ransom Notes, which Rita won. We had two lifelong reader/journalers and a songwriter vying for best/funniest/grossest/most offbeat phrase, and it worked like it was scripted. Our reward, both winner and losers, was the VERY SPECIAL ICE CREAM, of which my baby sister became an instant fan.

A sweet time. We knew other family members were spending the day scattered but happy and cozy, which makes everything all the better. I hope your holiday was and is what you need it to be, here at the close of 2023. And I hope 2024 will be very good to you and yours. Keep it simple.

**

And keep it real…

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Pre-holiday procrastination…

***

It’s a rain-ish day here after a steady overnight soaking, good for window-gazing, watching car and foot traffic, waiting for inspiration to overcome ennui. With a couple of things in progress in the lower right corner of my monitor, excellent coffee at hand, and nothing dragging on the guilt chain, this is feeling like a sweet little ordinary Friday. It helps that we’re Christmas heathens, indeed name a holiday and we’ll most likely have a ho-hum take on it. We’re careless like that, except that any excuse to make and eat amazing food suffices, secular or otherwise. Also, of course, any opportunity to be with loved ones. Both will happen on Monday, blessed be.

Because you’re so good about dropping in here, I’ll share a tiny Christmas gift with you. My inspiration comes from a multi-talented friend who knows many things, not least among them how to create the ultimate bowl of ice cream, highly addicting, of course. That isn’t the gift, though, because the recipe isn’t mine to share and the True Christmas Spirit has yet to visit me in the middle of the night, delivering guilt enough to last well into 2024. So… anyway, try not to think of this as a consolation prize, but Kim showed me a coffee trick this morning that will no doubt prove as habit-forming as the ice cream. It’s… Ta-DA!! … several heaping teaspoons of … wait for it… Chocolate Malt Ovaltine in a mug!! Fill with steaming coffee and enjoy the simplest possible nice addition to your day. Not too sweet, just enough to feel the love, which is what I wanted to say in the first place because I love the gift of your presence here. Merry Christmas, Happy Year to you, sincerely.

If you find yourself in a quandary this morning, wondering what you could possibly get for that one person on your list, a cool thing to give is something from the heart…

**

A simple wish: That 2024 will somehow be kinder, more benevolent, than the preceding decade has been. That we’ll be increasingly conscious of what it means to be human living on a rock hurtling through the universe with not one ounce of actual power to our name. Seems like it wouldn’t hurt to give kindness and benevolence a real shot, maybe for just a year, maybe the one directly ahead of us. Who’s in?

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Post-feast check-in…

***

How was your Thanksgiving, or is it still ongoing? Was there pumpkin pie for breakfast this morning? It was a sweet time here, just Kim, me, and Rita, all the good food you could want, and a deep spirit of gratefulness.

Since slipping into the rarified air of a new age level this year, with 80 only four years down the road, I’ve been more acutely aware of some of the changes that accompany the process. One is that holidays, more than ever, show up as opportunities for reflection, whether we like it or not. From the Kids’ Table, to supreme kitchen duties, to the chair where the eldest in the family sits, everything… absolutely everything… changes. By this point everything that matters has made itself known, choices are clear and obvious, and life just IS.

**

**

My 76th year has been supremely challenging in ways I couldn’t have foreseen, causing me to rethink this “getting older” idea. The sudden realization that after you finally get all the stuff stowed and redistributed from your last move ten years ago, along with other pending projects, there’s really not that much to do… has been a shock to my system. It left me berating myself for not having planned better for my “Golden Years,” because NOW WHAT? Little challenges handled, life okay for my loved ones, who am I NOW?

Thursday’s laid-back comfort and coziness brought a much-needed revelation sinking into my conscious mind: I did indeed plan wisely by cultivating the things I really love… reading, writing, solitude, my people. Those are the things that will never leave me, nor will I lose my need of them. The closest I ever came to being an athlete was six years as a cheerleader, but I do like to walk, and now I can, thanks to my beloved young neurologist. I live with a beautiful soul who loves me, feeds me, and tries to understand me. So it appears that life is good, I just need to ditch the guilt over no longer being very productive, and enjoy it. Steep hill for an anxiety-ridden eldest child with impossible personal standards, but here we go ’cause I’m not done yet.

**

My friend Barlow is a beast at dealing with what life throws at him. And he’s right.

**

**

As we open the door to the Christmas season and its various meanings around the world…

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The pause…

***

It’s another HumpDay, boys and girls, and we all know what that means: GET OVER IT ASAP! In truth, it feels like a very laid-back pre-Thanksgiving Wednesday, no big deal, which is the way I like my holidays. We’re creatures of habit in this house, rather than tradition, and a nice habit to cultivate is good food with great people, so tomorrow will follow… um… tradition. Rita will be here and each of the three of us chose a favorite dish to make, plus a few other goodies. It’ll be fire and we’ll congratulate ourselves on pulling off yet another cozy half-assed national holiday on our own template. Meanwhile, our middle sister should be on her way home today after major surgery, which is another tradition we dislike but adhere to in this family on a far too regular basis. And John will be working the holiday, as is his usual tradition.

This morning has sounded industrious and preparatory outside my doors. The yard crew arrived early to finish putting all the landscaping to bed for the season, at decibel level. There were fire trucks running north and south while city police cars screamed east and west, in response to what, I won’t even contemplate. The #lfk street sweepers have been out in force. Cars and people are roaming to and fro on errands unique to them. Kim’s home from PickleBall and is in the kitchen chopping a new load of fresh pepper and onion mix, his not-so-secret ingredient in most everything but desserts. The sun’s shining. The wind isn’t blowing. The day stands ready, holding out possibility. Might have to check it out… after one more cup of coffee.

A happy and grateful observance to all who celebrate. It’s never a bad time to stop and give thanks.

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Post-Ishtar post…

***

I change my desktop wallpaper the way some people change underwear, which is to say at least once a week. I like interesting, energizing change, while generally hating change I didn’t ask for, and the scenery on my toys is an easy fix for boredom and ennui… sometimes. So there’s that.

Easter weekend was quiet here and was also the first Saturday for Farmers’ Market this spring. They always set up a half-block south of us and it was packed over there. I love to see it… the early-morning chatter below our windows, kids running ahead of parents, lots of happy interaction. It’s been going on every year since we moved here, spring through fall, and the stability represents something important to me.

We’ve all been living in a stop-and-start world for enough years now that some of us are almost getting used to the periodic upheaval. I’m in favor of flexibility and adjustment to circumstances, but there are things in life we can’t quietly acquiesce to and tell ourselves to “keep moving, nothing to see here.” The last five years before my spinal surgery in 2021 were almost a write-off, with me spending more than 99% of my time within these walls, so coming out of that I’ve been gung-ho to do a few things to celebrate and respect being able to get around on my own. My timing may be a little off… sometimes you get there too early or just a hair too late, dang the luck… but I’m used to two steps forward followed by one in reverse, so I know the drill. Life has the power to be deadly discouraging, but I hope all the lessons it’s taught me will prove helpful at some point in the imagined future. That would be super cool. I mean, I know the foregoing sounds obscure, but how much patience does an old crone like me really need? A hell of a lot as it turns out. Same with acceptance, serenity, and a lack of dependence on the outside world in general. Life does what it will and we mostly follow like lemmings because we aren’t particularly quick studies in that sense, and whaddaya gonna do? Full disclosure: What we’re gonna do is behave and do what LIFE says, because she’s in charge. (I pledged long ago to tell you the truth in all things.)

In my ongoing quest to learn something new every day that I can take with me, I’m liking this simple graphic. Seems helpful:

**

Also this one, which reminds me there are lots of ways to be proactive:

I plead guilty on fully half of these, so okay, challenge accepted.

**

Every day of my life so far has been a result of the positive outweighing the negative, and so has yours or you wouldn’t be here. It’s okay to keep believing that things will get better, because they do tend in that direction.

**

Case in point:

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