Snippets of a happy holiday

The calendar is really getting down to the deadline—it’s the 22^nd already. Have you done all your Christmas shopping? I have been parceling out packages for days and think I have most distributed, except for my brother who lives an hour away—too close to mail, too fair to drive. We’ll have an extended Christmas after I get back from Tomball.

Tomorrow Colin, my oldest, will come from Tomball to pick me up and then we’ll go to Jamie’s office in North Dallas/Plano/somewhere along I-35 for a foosball table—I am beginning to wonder which is more important to Colin: me or the foosball table. That’s not really fair, because he has told me he likes being the kid who gets responsibility for me on the off years for Alter Christmases. And I’m looking forward to time in Tomball, especially time with the two grandchildren there—Morgan and Kegan. And some writing time—yeah, of course I’m taking my computer.

My days have been a happy mess of Christmas things—a grocery store trip on which I already felt the need to deal with the ham and black-eyed pea menu for New Year’s. Jordan responded that they are having friends in to watch whatever bowl game and she’s serving sausage balls which are a lot cheaper. I thought she missed the point. Then she said, “IF you want a ham, go ahead and get one.” Then I knew she’d really missed the point. Who gets a ham for one person?

Lunch yesterday with a friend I don’t see often enough. We had so much to talk about—the business of writing, whether or not you can write to someone’s textbook plan or just have to let it flow, grandsons. I mean we really chattered, and I loved it.

Then happy hour with an old and dear friend, talking about Christmas plans and gossiping about people we knew in our previous existence—like me, she is the ex-wife of an osteopathic physician and now, both our husbands are dead. But we have a lot of memories in common and a lot of old friends.

Tonight, I went to a cocktail party at the home of my Canadian daughter—her parents, dear friends, were there. Often, I miss them at Christmas because I travel just when they are here, so tonight it was a joy to visit with both of them. Lovely party, delicious food, plentiful wine—but so noisy I couldn’t really have a conversation with anyone, even with my new hearing aids.

Today I’ve been packing and organizing—Sophie will go with me to Tomball tomorrow, and you’d be amazed at what it takes to pack for a dog—food, probiotics, Benedryl, fake cheese slices, chew treats, her very own dog bowl. That done, I packed some things for me and have a really organized list of what needs to be packed tomorrow, plus another list of what needs to come out of the freezer and refrigerator at the last minute. Sometimes I scare myself because I’m so organized.

As we head into the holy season, I feel optimistic. I think our long national ordeal is coming to an end—the death throes may bring increased pain, fear, panic, and financial instability, but I believe as a country we’ll rise above it and restore our democracy. I am well aware that calling this the holy season leaves out Hanukah, Kwanza, and other religions which mark the winter solstice, and I don’t mean to be exclusionary. I simply approach the season—and the nation’s problems—from my own Christian perspective.

So holiday blessings on all of you, no matter what or how you celebrate. It’s the love in our hearts that matters much more than the shape of our faith. Be happy, my friends.

Moving is getting exciting

A friend once took me through the house she was thinking of buying. It was a wreck, with fast food containers thrown in a corner, an awkward arrangement of rooms, you name it. The next time she took me through it, after she’d bought it and remodeled it, it was an absolutely charming cottage with Saltillo tiles, built-in bookcases, French doors, and a functional kitchen. Of course, it was spotless-trash long since gone.

I don’t have that vision, that ability to look at a space and see what it could be. I’ve been arranging the cottage in my mind for weeks but I won’t know what works and what doesn’t until I actually see furniture in it. Jordan, bless her, measured all the furniture and then took me out there to measure the space. I took in everything she said—mostly that my bed is really too big for the space—but I couldn’t envision it. I’ll have to wait till Saturday, which is moving day.

Black Tie Movers are coming at one o’clock. Google them, and you’ll see two rows of young men in white shirts and black ties. Great marketing ploy. I had envisioned sitting in the cottage and regally directing them to put this here and that there. No such luck. I am to nap, while Jordan directs them, and I am not allowed out there until happy hour. I guess in a way it’s a relief—I’ll be surprised by the (semi-) finished product, and we’ll move on from there to see what fits and what doesn’t. I will have one thing that is a great luxury for me—a California-style closet. The closet is spacious, and the built-ins went in today-a marvel of convenience.  I can’t wait to get things in there.

Meantime there’s a lot of work to be done. Profound thanks to Sue Lyon Boggs and Teddy Springfield, who have fed us several meals and helped pack. The other day Teddy packed boxes and boxes of books—and brought the boxes—and today they both arrived with boxes, wrapping paper for pictures, and tape. When they got through, my dressers were empty and my office and bedroom walls bare. Great friends.

And to others who have brought meals. Last night three of my close friends brought supper—a super spinach dip, chicken tetrazzini, and brownies with whipped cream and fresh raspberries. We had a jolly dinner party in the midst of chaos.

I am, as I’m always aware, so blessed by family and friends. And looking forward to having my family, or most of them, here this weekend. Moving is traumatic, now way around that, but we’re making this as smooth as possible.

Oh, my! Life is getting complicated

Before

After--kind of sad but it will hold books again

last night I made the bold and rash statement that I now could wrap my mind around this move. Tonight I’m wondering whatever I was thinking. I spent part of the morning watching a friend work—those are the kinds of friends to have, and I am blessed. Teddy Springfield, who is nicely tall, wrapped up emptying my office bookshelves and getting rid of the junk on the credenza (fancy word for what it actually is). Then he went for more boxes and boxed the books in another bookcase in the back room—mostly either those I’ve written or by good friends. I was delighted that Teddy found a Bob Flynn book he wanted to take home and read. And, bless him, he said he’ll come back another day.

My desk is a mess, and I must organize the things on it. Some receipts, but I dealt today with the alarm company and arranged for security in the cottage. Have to talk to Lewis tomorrow about smoke alarms—it’s those little things you don’t think about.

My neighbors came for happy hour and a self-guided tour of the cottage? What’s to need a guide for in three rooms, two of them quite small. They were enthusiastic, as everyone is. I sometimes wonder if they like the space that much or if they’re trying to reassure me that I’ll like it. I’m in a dither about window treatments—and there are seven windows and the French doors. I don’t want to block the light, so traditional blinds are not my first choice. But anything is expensive, complicated by the fact that on this old property no windows are standard size and no two are the same. So whatever I choose will have to be special ordered, and I should have done it a couple of months ago.

Tonight I spent a frustrating hour trying to wade through the Humana Pharmacy website—my prescription list shows medications I never heard of. That’s frustration enough, but half the time the website booted me and then wouldn’t accept my password.

I am going to spend the remaining sliver of the evening reading cooking magazines! That’s my own private rebellion.