It was one of those nights that happen far too often lately. Last night we watched Meryl Streep in "Mama Mia" and loved it. I may have been a bit more appreciative than Mike, because I actually saw the end of the movie, which I rarely do, no matter how excited I am to be watching it.
I woke up in the dark just minutes before I heard the two gongs signifying the two o'clock hour. I struggled to rise from my cozy nest on the couch, wandered to the bathroom, and got ready for bed. Climbing between the covers, I remained in a dazed state of half-sleep while I put my head on the pillow. I waited. I heard the single gong of the clock....2:30 AM. I prayed for everyone I knew that I'd promised prayer for. Gong,Gong, Gong! 3 AM . I mentally shopped for material for the kitchen backsplash. I pictured the plastic-type of ceiling tin made for the project, and wondered about it and it's durability. I pictured the small, glass tiles...greys,white, black....too modern I decided. Do I want to explore the myriad of ceramic tiles? I tried to imagine some of it, and wasn't very enthused, as I don't really want tiles at all. What else could I work with for an easy -to-clean surface that will hold up well? Gong...3:30 AM. Husband gets up for his stop in the necessary room, and then he continues to the kitchen for that middle of the night snack. He came back to bed and I heard the four gongs.
Moving on, I wondered about the prayer shawls knitted by a friend, and her knitting group. I tried to imagine what they look like, and wondered if she would sell/make one for me. A mental note was made to contact her with the query. At that point, I also realized that I needed to send a check for a handcrafted item I'd ordered. One gong...4:30 AM.
I rolled from one side to the other, and then to my stomach, then returned to my back. I heard my stomach growl as it continued to process the cabbage and ham dinner we'd eaten hours earlier. I thought it was taking a long time to digest, and then realized that I might be hungry instead. I'd wait until breakfast. The heating unit seemed unusually loud, and then I heard the five gongs. It was useless. Sleep was definitely illusive and wasn't apt to show up as daylight moved closer. I got up.
All the plans I had made to run out and do errands today diminished as I took my morning vitamins and waited for the coffee to brew. I made some eggs and bacon and rye toast, and turned on the early news. After my habit of Facebook with coffee, I tried to gather my thoughts from the fog in my head, and determine whether I'm up to doing any errands at all. Feeling dizzy with the lack of sleep, I reckoned that it might be safer to stay at home and do whatever demanded my attention. Certainly it had better not be anything requiring much attention because I don't have any to spare after a 4 hour sleep.
I think my crystal ball is indicating a nap will be had this afternoon....and a welcome one, at that.
Saturday, January 22, 2011
Saturday, December 18, 2010
To My Mother in Law
Dear Margie...
Your son has been my husband for fifteen years. Every year with him gets better. He is such a special, unselfish, giving man. I couldn't have designed him better if I had had the opportunity to do so.
I've heard the stories of his growing up years without his birth father. I know how he fought the idea of having a stepdad, but eventually accepted Jake,loving and respecting him as family and friend. I've heard his fears of feeling as if he's not doing a good enough job of being a father. He's an amazing and accepting step-father, offering advice, but never preaching. I've dried his tears as he remembers his grandparents with such immense love that it spills out through his eyes. I've watched him take on the role of grandfather with the birth of each of my grandchildren. He couldn't be more loving with any of them, even if they were his own blood.
Yes, yes, I know that he isn't perfect. You told me in one of our earlies conversations that he had a huge temper. Yes, he does, but fortunately, he has a long fuse. His patience level is high, and it takes a lot to bring him to his loss of it. I've seen it only three times that I can think of....not a bad percentage for as many years as I've known him.
Thank you for giving birth to this guy on this day, so many years ago. Thank you for all that he learned from you, and for exposing him to the examples your brother gave him, for those of your father, and for Jake's, as he grew up. All of those examples and experiences have caused him to be who he is. It isn't easy to rear children who will grow into great adults, but you did it, and you deserve to be recognized.
I'm forever grateful.
With love, Kathleen
Your son has been my husband for fifteen years. Every year with him gets better. He is such a special, unselfish, giving man. I couldn't have designed him better if I had had the opportunity to do so.
I've heard the stories of his growing up years without his birth father. I know how he fought the idea of having a stepdad, but eventually accepted Jake,loving and respecting him as family and friend. I've heard his fears of feeling as if he's not doing a good enough job of being a father. He's an amazing and accepting step-father, offering advice, but never preaching. I've dried his tears as he remembers his grandparents with such immense love that it spills out through his eyes. I've watched him take on the role of grandfather with the birth of each of my grandchildren. He couldn't be more loving with any of them, even if they were his own blood.
Yes, yes, I know that he isn't perfect. You told me in one of our earlies conversations that he had a huge temper. Yes, he does, but fortunately, he has a long fuse. His patience level is high, and it takes a lot to bring him to his loss of it. I've seen it only three times that I can think of....not a bad percentage for as many years as I've known him.
Thank you for giving birth to this guy on this day, so many years ago. Thank you for all that he learned from you, and for exposing him to the examples your brother gave him, for those of your father, and for Jake's, as he grew up. All of those examples and experiences have caused him to be who he is. It isn't easy to rear children who will grow into great adults, but you did it, and you deserve to be recognized.
I'm forever grateful.
With love, Kathleen
Last Night...
We had a Christmas party to attend last night, the third one so far this year. I really enjoy that one, but, unfortunately I needed to stay at home. I've had a few days of nausea which came and went throughout the week. My husband had the same ailment last weekend. Nothing much came of it, other than discomfort, but I wasn't feeling up to going into a crowd for dinner, both for their sakes and my own.
I truly enjoy these 'at home' gatherings. They are intimate and quiter than going to a restaurant, and so much more personal. It's fun to see the decorating in the homes of our hosts, and I pay special attention in order to get new ideas for our own celebrations in another year.
While my husband attended the party last night, with my Mom as his date, I laid on the couch at home. I thought about how lucky I am to have such a man as my husband. He might rather have stayed at home,too, but he knows how Mom enjoys going to the special events. He put his desires on the shelf, and took his place as her escort. He is so attentive to my mother, who has trouble seeing things and is a bit unsteady on her feet at times. I envisioned them at the dinnerline, as he told her what each dish was, and portioned it out on her plate for her. Then he guided her to the table, sitting at her left so she could hear him with her 'good' ear.
I know he did those things, because I've seen him do it in other situations. He's such a special son in law that people in church, when they first met us, asked if Mom was my mother or his. They make statements, still, such as 'he's so GOOD with her."
They made it an early night, and after seeing that Mom was safely inside her little house across the street, he brought a little of the party home to me....a number of messages to 'feel better' and a plate, heavy-laden with food.
I may have missed a great holiday celebration, but I celebrate the gift of this man as my husband. I am truly blessed to have him!
I truly enjoy these 'at home' gatherings. They are intimate and quiter than going to a restaurant, and so much more personal. It's fun to see the decorating in the homes of our hosts, and I pay special attention in order to get new ideas for our own celebrations in another year.
While my husband attended the party last night, with my Mom as his date, I laid on the couch at home. I thought about how lucky I am to have such a man as my husband. He might rather have stayed at home,too, but he knows how Mom enjoys going to the special events. He put his desires on the shelf, and took his place as her escort. He is so attentive to my mother, who has trouble seeing things and is a bit unsteady on her feet at times. I envisioned them at the dinnerline, as he told her what each dish was, and portioned it out on her plate for her. Then he guided her to the table, sitting at her left so she could hear him with her 'good' ear.
I know he did those things, because I've seen him do it in other situations. He's such a special son in law that people in church, when they first met us, asked if Mom was my mother or his. They make statements, still, such as 'he's so GOOD with her."
They made it an early night, and after seeing that Mom was safely inside her little house across the street, he brought a little of the party home to me....a number of messages to 'feel better' and a plate, heavy-laden with food.
I may have missed a great holiday celebration, but I celebrate the gift of this man as my husband. I am truly blessed to have him!
Monday, December 13, 2010
Historic Homes
Oh, how I love old homes, historic places that have withstood the sands of time. From farmhouse simplicity to grand plantations, my heart thrills at the sight of them.
Victorian homes with their gingerbread trims look to me like decorated cakes. Sag Harbor and Shelter Island are full of them. They stand like grand ladies, decked out in their finery, and just call out to me to tour them. Some of them are small cottages and utilitarian, rather than formal places, but still, there is something about them that causes me to say that I believe I like Victorian architecture best. They are full of such character.....slanted ceilings, some have high ceilings, nine feet or more. Some have exceptional interior oak wood floors and trim work, some have iron grill work that is not seen anymore, over fireplaces and holes in floors for heating. Some have stained glass which is the utmost in decorating, from my point of view. Many of them have panelled doors and walls, and even sliding doors that hide inside the walls, to separate parlors or dining rooms. Chandeliers of that day were glorious!
Farmhouses, too, are worthy of note, in my estimation. Most are simple, unpretentious, no matter what the size of them. Wide pine floors that creak underfoot, walls that retain the vent piping for the old coal or wood stoves used for cooking and heating,now covered by metal plates to cut the draft. Large sashed windows, wainscotted walls and sometimes ceilings, tin ceilings, large pantries speak of days gone by.
Old homes pull me in. Whenever an opportunity arises, I will take it and wander through one. We did just that the other evening when we took a tour of a Civil War time home, decorated in the manner it would have been during the War Between the States. It was chilly, even with the space heaters set into the historically furnished rooms. It was elegant with it's 12 foot ceilings and it's wide trimwork. Yet, it was simply decorated with live cedar trees bearing rafia ribbons, pine cones and paper cones of edible treats. Candlelight glowed in each room, and made it feel warm and hospitable.
I live in a newly built farmhouse, and I'm always on the lookout for a way to make it look as if it's been standing for a hundred years. So far, I haven't mastered the task of actually putting these ideas into action, but stay tuned. I have big plans! It all takes time to look old...and it takes money too, to drag a house through a time machine. One day, you'll see, this place will look the way I'd like it to....old, comfortable and homey.
Victorian homes with their gingerbread trims look to me like decorated cakes. Sag Harbor and Shelter Island are full of them. They stand like grand ladies, decked out in their finery, and just call out to me to tour them. Some of them are small cottages and utilitarian, rather than formal places, but still, there is something about them that causes me to say that I believe I like Victorian architecture best. They are full of such character.....slanted ceilings, some have high ceilings, nine feet or more. Some have exceptional interior oak wood floors and trim work, some have iron grill work that is not seen anymore, over fireplaces and holes in floors for heating. Some have stained glass which is the utmost in decorating, from my point of view. Many of them have panelled doors and walls, and even sliding doors that hide inside the walls, to separate parlors or dining rooms. Chandeliers of that day were glorious!
Farmhouses, too, are worthy of note, in my estimation. Most are simple, unpretentious, no matter what the size of them. Wide pine floors that creak underfoot, walls that retain the vent piping for the old coal or wood stoves used for cooking and heating,now covered by metal plates to cut the draft. Large sashed windows, wainscotted walls and sometimes ceilings, tin ceilings, large pantries speak of days gone by.
Old homes pull me in. Whenever an opportunity arises, I will take it and wander through one. We did just that the other evening when we took a tour of a Civil War time home, decorated in the manner it would have been during the War Between the States. It was chilly, even with the space heaters set into the historically furnished rooms. It was elegant with it's 12 foot ceilings and it's wide trimwork. Yet, it was simply decorated with live cedar trees bearing rafia ribbons, pine cones and paper cones of edible treats. Candlelight glowed in each room, and made it feel warm and hospitable.
I live in a newly built farmhouse, and I'm always on the lookout for a way to make it look as if it's been standing for a hundred years. So far, I haven't mastered the task of actually putting these ideas into action, but stay tuned. I have big plans! It all takes time to look old...and it takes money too, to drag a house through a time machine. One day, you'll see, this place will look the way I'd like it to....old, comfortable and homey.
Friday, December 10, 2010
Countdown...
I don't like the word 'countdown.' It causes my heart to pound with anxiety, as if I'm going to be very late for something. I've never cared to hear the 10-9-8- etc of the space crafts at lift off, and I feel the same way about the New Year's Eve ball drop. They just bother me...I don't know why, but they do.
When digital clocks took the place of the ones with hands and numbers on a circle, children began to announce the time precisely as each second passed. It made me want to run from the room, tear at my hair and scream. Now, Hallmark has created a countdown ornament, which documents days, hours, minutes and seconds. Excited children who have this gadget on their tree will be running to parents minute by minute exclaiming how little time is left before Santa arrives. Oh joy! (Who, in their right mind, would even consider hanging a thing like that where kids could see it?!) I'm fine with the Advent calendar to open with children, one little box for each day. Yes, it's a countdown, but somehow it's much gentler.
I'm right on schedule for Christmas... on MY schedule, even if I don't measure up to the ideas of those doing the countdown. I've got my lists, my gifts, my organization according to MY plan.
I won't be late for the holiday festivities, I promise. Please stop, Mr. TV Reporter, reminding me of how many days I have left to do thus and so. You may call me a Countdown Curmudgeon if you like, but I will just click you off, so that I don't have to hear it!
Now, since the time is growing shorter, I need to hustle my bustle.....
When digital clocks took the place of the ones with hands and numbers on a circle, children began to announce the time precisely as each second passed. It made me want to run from the room, tear at my hair and scream. Now, Hallmark has created a countdown ornament, which documents days, hours, minutes and seconds. Excited children who have this gadget on their tree will be running to parents minute by minute exclaiming how little time is left before Santa arrives. Oh joy! (Who, in their right mind, would even consider hanging a thing like that where kids could see it?!) I'm fine with the Advent calendar to open with children, one little box for each day. Yes, it's a countdown, but somehow it's much gentler.
I'm right on schedule for Christmas... on MY schedule, even if I don't measure up to the ideas of those doing the countdown. I've got my lists, my gifts, my organization according to MY plan.
I won't be late for the holiday festivities, I promise. Please stop, Mr. TV Reporter, reminding me of how many days I have left to do thus and so. You may call me a Countdown Curmudgeon if you like, but I will just click you off, so that I don't have to hear it!
Now, since the time is growing shorter, I need to hustle my bustle.....
Thursday, December 9, 2010
Shopping in December
There was a time in my life when I loved to shop. I'd hop in the car and direct it toward Riverhead where I'd spend all day wandering through the stores, whether I bought anything or not. But those were the days when I had more energy.
These days, however, my enthusiasm leaves much room for improvement, especially in December. I just don't have the ability to stand or walk for long periods of time. I try to plan my trips so that I don't need to wander around to find what I need. That way, I don't have to stay out longer than necessary. The crowded stores make this short trip much longer the closer we get to Christmas. While I love hearing the Christmas music and seeing the wonder in the little ones eyes as their parents wheel them in carts through the decorated aisles, I'd much prefer to be at home during the month of December.
Gift buying is, for me, a special event. I like to place my hands on the item, feel the fabric, hold it up to check for size, check the quality. You can't do that when you shop on-line, and so the alternative is to physically go to the stores. I enjoy choosing the special gift for the special person, and all year-long I have my eye peeled for the perfect present for each one on my list. By October, I'm usually finished and will begin the wrapping. That keeps me from the stores in the busiest season, and I have the serenity of knowing I've only to sit in front of my cd player and make beautiful packages and do the 'at home' preparations of baking, cleaning, decorating and Christmas cards.
No one will ever have reason to call me organized, but most years, I have this one in the bag.
These days, however, my enthusiasm leaves much room for improvement, especially in December. I just don't have the ability to stand or walk for long periods of time. I try to plan my trips so that I don't need to wander around to find what I need. That way, I don't have to stay out longer than necessary. The crowded stores make this short trip much longer the closer we get to Christmas. While I love hearing the Christmas music and seeing the wonder in the little ones eyes as their parents wheel them in carts through the decorated aisles, I'd much prefer to be at home during the month of December.
Gift buying is, for me, a special event. I like to place my hands on the item, feel the fabric, hold it up to check for size, check the quality. You can't do that when you shop on-line, and so the alternative is to physically go to the stores. I enjoy choosing the special gift for the special person, and all year-long I have my eye peeled for the perfect present for each one on my list. By October, I'm usually finished and will begin the wrapping. That keeps me from the stores in the busiest season, and I have the serenity of knowing I've only to sit in front of my cd player and make beautiful packages and do the 'at home' preparations of baking, cleaning, decorating and Christmas cards.
No one will ever have reason to call me organized, but most years, I have this one in the bag.
Monday, December 6, 2010
The Best Laid Plans...
You really never know how things will turn out, no matter how much planning you do. This weekend was a real example of that.
My daughter arrived on Friday, later than she'd hoped, with the two little grand-imps. Her delay was due to having to stop at a mechanic when some warning lights appeared on her cars. After some antifreeze in the radiator, she was good to go, and she made the trip without incident.
We had great plans for the two days together. Saturday we would be ready right after breakfast to shop with the little ones for a gift for their Daddy. Then we'd come home for lunch and bake and decorated some cut out cookies together .
Things didn't go quite the way we'd hoped. First of all, we lazed around too long in the morning, getting out around ten-thirty. We'd gone approximately two miles, when the warning lights showed up on the dash again. I suggested we swing over to our friend and mechanic's shop to see if he could hook the computer up and locate the problem. We were lucky to find Terry there, and the computer reading was 'coolant system.' He suggested we leave the car and he'd get it fixed by the end of the day. That required driving back to our house, unloading kids and car seats into my van, and driving back to Terry's place, which is what we did.
We then drove over to Anderson for the stop at the bank and shopping. By that time, the girls were telling us that they were starving, so we had a bite of lunch before moving on to the store for the gifts. We'd added a few other stops along the way, in order that we both might finish up our nagging little chores. By the time we got home, it was close to dinner time. So...no cookies.
We'd hoped to go to church on Sunday together. But one of the children had gone to bed the night before with a 'really bad headache' and coughing. I'd gotten up that morning with a deep, dry cough that sounded like a vicious dog's bark. We stayed home. We probably could have baked our cookies, but the little ones were happily perched in front of some Christmas cartoons, and my daughter and Mike and I sat around the table making menus for our holiday week. We made a slight change in one pre-planned item, which caused a bit of 'difficulty' for another member of the family who would be the contributor. That, of course, upset me, as the hostess.
I always thought that when you were invited for a dinner at someone else's house, you ate what was offered without complaint. Maybe things are different these days. I guess the bottom line is, no matter how you try, you can't please everyone.
Anyway, plans are made. Plans get messed up. As the mother of five, I learned early to be flexible enough to go with the flow. It seems that nothing ever goes as planned....
My daughter arrived on Friday, later than she'd hoped, with the two little grand-imps. Her delay was due to having to stop at a mechanic when some warning lights appeared on her cars. After some antifreeze in the radiator, she was good to go, and she made the trip without incident.
We had great plans for the two days together. Saturday we would be ready right after breakfast to shop with the little ones for a gift for their Daddy. Then we'd come home for lunch and bake and decorated some cut out cookies together .
Things didn't go quite the way we'd hoped. First of all, we lazed around too long in the morning, getting out around ten-thirty. We'd gone approximately two miles, when the warning lights showed up on the dash again. I suggested we swing over to our friend and mechanic's shop to see if he could hook the computer up and locate the problem. We were lucky to find Terry there, and the computer reading was 'coolant system.' He suggested we leave the car and he'd get it fixed by the end of the day. That required driving back to our house, unloading kids and car seats into my van, and driving back to Terry's place, which is what we did.
We then drove over to Anderson for the stop at the bank and shopping. By that time, the girls were telling us that they were starving, so we had a bite of lunch before moving on to the store for the gifts. We'd added a few other stops along the way, in order that we both might finish up our nagging little chores. By the time we got home, it was close to dinner time. So...no cookies.
We'd hoped to go to church on Sunday together. But one of the children had gone to bed the night before with a 'really bad headache' and coughing. I'd gotten up that morning with a deep, dry cough that sounded like a vicious dog's bark. We stayed home. We probably could have baked our cookies, but the little ones were happily perched in front of some Christmas cartoons, and my daughter and Mike and I sat around the table making menus for our holiday week. We made a slight change in one pre-planned item, which caused a bit of 'difficulty' for another member of the family who would be the contributor. That, of course, upset me, as the hostess.
I always thought that when you were invited for a dinner at someone else's house, you ate what was offered without complaint. Maybe things are different these days. I guess the bottom line is, no matter how you try, you can't please everyone.
Anyway, plans are made. Plans get messed up. As the mother of five, I learned early to be flexible enough to go with the flow. It seems that nothing ever goes as planned....
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)