Well, y'all, we're off'n to thet ther Christmas tree cuttin' farm, wer ther men-folk and the young'ins will be a-cuttin' down a tree. We'll be a-trekkin' threw ther wilderness at St. Joe's Christmas tree farm, lookin' fer ther perfec pine ta haul inter our house 'n stay fer a month. We're a-hopin' we kin find one wit-out any critters in it, such as the prayin' mantis thingies thet came wit our tree thet one year.
Ther wirther-lady sez thet we mite get us sum freezin' rain but I'm a-thinkin' thet will jest add to the excitement of seein' the men-folk layin' on the wet ground with thet little hack-saw tryin' to get thet frazier fir ta go "timber!"
The littlest ones mite git a little damp 'round the edges but they are hardy critters.
They kin hep us drag thet tree bak up to the payin' place and git some hot coco ta warm up.
We'll be bringin' it home and trimmin' it up, barrin' any unforseen not-human critters bustin' out.
If you kep watchin' this space you jest mit see a pictur.
Saturday, December 8, 2007
Friday, December 7, 2007
About finding your own Christmas
Do you ever tire of reading letters like this one:
"It saddens me to see the glory of Christ removed from Christmas. For years we saw Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year emblazoned across storefronts until it became XMAS. Now Christmas trees have become holiday trees, great trees or family trees and traditional Christmas carols are discouraged in some schools." (from the Dec. 4,2007, Huntington, Texas Item)
The perennially recycled "Keep Christ in Christmas" theme--familiar, huh? The writer shares a common worry with many letter-writers at this time of year: the dreaded secularization of Christmas.
We were watching A Charlie Brown Christmas tonight (for the third time this season). This melancholy little gem was first presented in 1965: 42 years ago. And what's it about? Charlie Brown trying to find the true meaning of Christmas among the commercialism of the pink metal trees and Snoopy's garishly decorated doghouse, and the lists of presents his friends want. And find it he does, in the words of a little boy reciting the Nativity story from the Bible, and in the magical trimming of the most pathetic Christmas tree ever.
Charlie Brown, too, was worried about what he saw around him, but acted, and learned.
I was thinking about how the writer of the letter kept looking for Christmas around her, and could only see the lack of it; how Charlie Brown lamented the crass commercialism of the season, and found what he needed in his friends, and his little tree.
And it made me think of this.
Mother Teresa once wrote, in response to a person who wanted to join her in India:
"Stay where you are. Find your own Calcutta. Find the sick, the suffering and the lonely right there where you are -- in your own homes and in your own families, in your workplaces and in your schools. ... You can find Calcutta all over the world, if you have the eyes to see. Everywhere, wherever you go, you find people who are unwanted, unloved, uncared for, just rejected by society -- completely forgotten, completely left alone."
And I realized that, if I could talk to that lady who wrote the letter, I'd recommend she watch "A Charlie Brown Christmas" one more time, and then I would borrow some of Mother Teresa's words, and tell the lady, worry not about that which is around you: those things you cannot change. But rather, change what you can:
Lady, find your own Christmas. Find the sick, the suffering and the lonely right where you are--in your own home and in your family, in your workplace or in your school.... You can find Christmas all over the world, if you have the eyes to see. Even at the mall, even in the schools, even at that place with the "Happy Holidays" sign. Everywhere, wherever you go, you find people who are unwanted, unloved, uncared for, just rejected by society--completely forgotten, completely left alone. Forget the holiday tree and the season's greetings. Remember to live Christmas, because that's what we should have learned from Christ. How to live it.
How about you? Have you found your own Christmas?
"It saddens me to see the glory of Christ removed from Christmas. For years we saw Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year emblazoned across storefronts until it became XMAS. Now Christmas trees have become holiday trees, great trees or family trees and traditional Christmas carols are discouraged in some schools." (from the Dec. 4,2007, Huntington, Texas Item)
The perennially recycled "Keep Christ in Christmas" theme--familiar, huh? The writer shares a common worry with many letter-writers at this time of year: the dreaded secularization of Christmas.
We were watching A Charlie Brown Christmas tonight (for the third time this season). This melancholy little gem was first presented in 1965: 42 years ago. And what's it about? Charlie Brown trying to find the true meaning of Christmas among the commercialism of the pink metal trees and Snoopy's garishly decorated doghouse, and the lists of presents his friends want. And find it he does, in the words of a little boy reciting the Nativity story from the Bible, and in the magical trimming of the most pathetic Christmas tree ever.
Charlie Brown, too, was worried about what he saw around him, but acted, and learned.
I was thinking about how the writer of the letter kept looking for Christmas around her, and could only see the lack of it; how Charlie Brown lamented the crass commercialism of the season, and found what he needed in his friends, and his little tree.
And it made me think of this.
Mother Teresa once wrote, in response to a person who wanted to join her in India:
"Stay where you are. Find your own Calcutta. Find the sick, the suffering and the lonely right there where you are -- in your own homes and in your own families, in your workplaces and in your schools. ... You can find Calcutta all over the world, if you have the eyes to see. Everywhere, wherever you go, you find people who are unwanted, unloved, uncared for, just rejected by society -- completely forgotten, completely left alone."
And I realized that, if I could talk to that lady who wrote the letter, I'd recommend she watch "A Charlie Brown Christmas" one more time, and then I would borrow some of Mother Teresa's words, and tell the lady, worry not about that which is around you: those things you cannot change. But rather, change what you can:
Lady, find your own Christmas. Find the sick, the suffering and the lonely right where you are--in your own home and in your family, in your workplace or in your school.... You can find Christmas all over the world, if you have the eyes to see. Even at the mall, even in the schools, even at that place with the "Happy Holidays" sign. Everywhere, wherever you go, you find people who are unwanted, unloved, uncared for, just rejected by society--completely forgotten, completely left alone. Forget the holiday tree and the season's greetings. Remember to live Christmas, because that's what we should have learned from Christ. How to live it.
How about you? Have you found your own Christmas?
Thursday, December 6, 2007
About when angels sing
They just don't care, you know--the little kids don't care about all the social rules that govern us who have grown tall.
They stand on the steps at the front of the sanctuary for their first Christmas program, and they crane their necks looking for their parents and everybody there just to see them. Then they spot their group, their little faces light up, they jump for joy, and they wave madly. And if you look at the audience, you'll see a group responding similarly--suddenly, the grownups don't care who's watching them, either.
And if it's a major accomplishment on the teachers' part to get a group of forty little kids to stay in place for half an hour (and not run with their usual abandon around the place), it's really too much to ask that they stand still. Because they will not. They will jump, they will wiggle their butts, they will bend side to side, they will stretch. Because they must.
And the singing--they don't care if they are singing in tune, or singing softly, or singing in concert with their group, or not singing at all. They give as much of their attention as is preschool-ly possible to the teacher leading them, and all (well, most) of their mouths are moving. Some are to be whispering, some are shouting the words (and sometimes, the wrong words), some seem to be taking a break.
You see rapt attention, and wide smiles, or just curious looks, and sometimes, sheer terror.
You see little people poking their neighbors.
You see big people smiling at each other at the sight.
And when they sing (um, shout) "Happy Birthday, Baby Jesus," for a little moment, it's easy to remember what Christmas might be all about.
When they're done, they run down the steps to their moms and dads and grammas and grampas and everyone there who loves them, and get a hug, and an "I'm so proud of you," then they are ready to go get some birthday cake and juice, and no, they do NOT want their picture taken by the Christmas tree.
Which gets taken anyway, thank you.
How about you? Have you heard the angels singing, yet?
They stand on the steps at the front of the sanctuary for their first Christmas program, and they crane their necks looking for their parents and everybody there just to see them. Then they spot their group, their little faces light up, they jump for joy, and they wave madly. And if you look at the audience, you'll see a group responding similarly--suddenly, the grownups don't care who's watching them, either.
And if it's a major accomplishment on the teachers' part to get a group of forty little kids to stay in place for half an hour (and not run with their usual abandon around the place), it's really too much to ask that they stand still. Because they will not. They will jump, they will wiggle their butts, they will bend side to side, they will stretch. Because they must.
And the singing--they don't care if they are singing in tune, or singing softly, or singing in concert with their group, or not singing at all. They give as much of their attention as is preschool-ly possible to the teacher leading them, and all (well, most) of their mouths are moving. Some are to be whispering, some are shouting the words (and sometimes, the wrong words), some seem to be taking a break.
You see rapt attention, and wide smiles, or just curious looks, and sometimes, sheer terror.
You see little people poking their neighbors.
You see big people smiling at each other at the sight.
And when they sing (um, shout) "Happy Birthday, Baby Jesus," for a little moment, it's easy to remember what Christmas might be all about.
When they're done, they run down the steps to their moms and dads and grammas and grampas and everyone there who loves them, and get a hug, and an "I'm so proud of you," then they are ready to go get some birthday cake and juice, and no, they do NOT want their picture taken by the Christmas tree.
Which gets taken anyway, thank you.
How about you? Have you heard the angels singing, yet?
Wednesday, December 5, 2007
About my commute was going to suck
Sorry, but I hate winter-weather driving, and since it started snowing last night, and a good ole Alberta Clipper was clipping us, I went to bed thinkin' my drive to work would not be good, and I woke up knowin' it wouldn't.
There's a skylight right above my bed, and when it's covered in snow, and I can't see any sky, I know what to expect outside.
I've had some pretty nail-biting drives over the years. Since I drive from Ft. Wayne to Huntington, about 20 miles mostly over a state route, my safety depends on whether the big snow plows have cleared the way, or not.
Today, it was NOT.
Plus, and this was my bad, I had to run an errand that took me INTO Ft. Wayne first. I should have run that errand the day before. Instead, I ponied up in the parade of folks driving into the city. And it was a very slow-moving parade. I tried to smile and wave out my window; unfortunately, I forgot my crown, plus, no one was paying any attention to me, what with their hands clenched to the steering wheel and eyes glued to the snowy road and all.
And it was very snowy. From my house to my errand, no evidence of any snow-clearing.
From the errand on the route back out of town, no clearing, and two traffic slow-downs because of wrecks.
And even when I hit the highway that takes me out of the city and on into Huntington, still snowy! I was hoping the state trucks had gotten out and I'd just have wet pavement to deal with.
It wasn't until I was west of Roanoke that I could see any trucks had been out and I felt comfortable letting my speed creep above 45.
Even then, there was a car backwards in the median.
But I made it to work safely, if lately, and eventually my pulse will slow down.
The snow's stoppng, and my drive home should, repeat should, be better.
But I'm kind of wishing I were fighting sand dunes in Ft. Myers, not snow drifts in Ft. Wayne!
Oh well! What about you? What kind of dunes are you plowing through?
There's a skylight right above my bed, and when it's covered in snow, and I can't see any sky, I know what to expect outside.
I've had some pretty nail-biting drives over the years. Since I drive from Ft. Wayne to Huntington, about 20 miles mostly over a state route, my safety depends on whether the big snow plows have cleared the way, or not.
Today, it was NOT.
Plus, and this was my bad, I had to run an errand that took me INTO Ft. Wayne first. I should have run that errand the day before. Instead, I ponied up in the parade of folks driving into the city. And it was a very slow-moving parade. I tried to smile and wave out my window; unfortunately, I forgot my crown, plus, no one was paying any attention to me, what with their hands clenched to the steering wheel and eyes glued to the snowy road and all.
And it was very snowy. From my house to my errand, no evidence of any snow-clearing.
From the errand on the route back out of town, no clearing, and two traffic slow-downs because of wrecks.
And even when I hit the highway that takes me out of the city and on into Huntington, still snowy! I was hoping the state trucks had gotten out and I'd just have wet pavement to deal with.
It wasn't until I was west of Roanoke that I could see any trucks had been out and I felt comfortable letting my speed creep above 45.
Even then, there was a car backwards in the median.
But I made it to work safely, if lately, and eventually my pulse will slow down.
The snow's stoppng, and my drive home should, repeat should, be better.
But I'm kind of wishing I were fighting sand dunes in Ft. Myers, not snow drifts in Ft. Wayne!
Oh well! What about you? What kind of dunes are you plowing through?
Tuesday, December 4, 2007
About the zen of tea
[And since I'm totally American, this is a totally pragmatic interpretation. (And I use tea bags, you tea snobs. I suppose brewing loose-leaf will be my next step, but not there yet.)]
I didn't grow up drinking tea. My parents were coffee drinkers. Instant, at that.
I met my future mother-in-law when I was about 16, and it was then I became a convert, for she enjoyed a cup of good ole Lipton of an afternoon.
Over the years, I discovered the many flavors and kinds of teas, and if that was limited to a little Constant Comment in the '80s, my choices exploded in the '90s, and have positively gone nuclear in the 21st century.
And this would be thanks to the research that shows: tea is practically a wonder food. An antitoxident feast! Suddenly, everyone wants to drink tea!
I was just reading, I think in O Magazine, yet another article about how good tea is for you and just what kind and how much to drink. Although often the advice is that green tea is best, this particular article stated that any tea is good, and that 4 cups or so is a good amount for health.
I'm good with that. I usually drink four cups (sometimes less, seldom more) in the morning and sometimes a cup or two in the evening, especially in cold weather. So my tea health is right up there.
I have gravitated to green teas, way before everyone else did, just because I liked the taste. with a Bigelow Green Tea with Peach being a current fav. And if you've never tried a white tea, Stash has some good ones, White Christmas (with peppermint) currently first on my list. There's also a fusion honey white/green that I can feel detoxifying my body with ever sip. Not really. I just love the lightness of the taste. At least, it's warming me up.
One time at Trader Joe's I got all healthy standing there looking at the teas so I bought some organic super-charged extra-healthy green tea.
Whoa. I might was well as gone out and grabbed some grass from the yard and brewed it. Couldn't drink it.
It's that time of year when of an evening, I brew up some warmness--oh, Celestial Seasonings has some wonderful seasonal teas, an herbal called Sugar Cookie that is Christmas in a cup--and count the calendar days 'til spring. But the tea mug feels good in my hands, and the winter not quite so harsh as I hold it.
How about you? What's warmin' you up?
I didn't grow up drinking tea. My parents were coffee drinkers. Instant, at that.
I met my future mother-in-law when I was about 16, and it was then I became a convert, for she enjoyed a cup of good ole Lipton of an afternoon.
Over the years, I discovered the many flavors and kinds of teas, and if that was limited to a little Constant Comment in the '80s, my choices exploded in the '90s, and have positively gone nuclear in the 21st century.
And this would be thanks to the research that shows: tea is practically a wonder food. An antitoxident feast! Suddenly, everyone wants to drink tea!
I was just reading, I think in O Magazine, yet another article about how good tea is for you and just what kind and how much to drink. Although often the advice is that green tea is best, this particular article stated that any tea is good, and that 4 cups or so is a good amount for health.
I'm good with that. I usually drink four cups (sometimes less, seldom more) in the morning and sometimes a cup or two in the evening, especially in cold weather. So my tea health is right up there.
I have gravitated to green teas, way before everyone else did, just because I liked the taste. with a Bigelow Green Tea with Peach being a current fav. And if you've never tried a white tea, Stash has some good ones, White Christmas (with peppermint) currently first on my list. There's also a fusion honey white/green that I can feel detoxifying my body with ever sip. Not really. I just love the lightness of the taste. At least, it's warming me up.
One time at Trader Joe's I got all healthy standing there looking at the teas so I bought some organic super-charged extra-healthy green tea.
Whoa. I might was well as gone out and grabbed some grass from the yard and brewed it. Couldn't drink it.
It's that time of year when of an evening, I brew up some warmness--oh, Celestial Seasonings has some wonderful seasonal teas, an herbal called Sugar Cookie that is Christmas in a cup--and count the calendar days 'til spring. But the tea mug feels good in my hands, and the winter not quite so harsh as I hold it.
How about you? What's warmin' you up?
Monday, December 3, 2007
About just a bunch of stuff
I took the weekend off writing for the first time in a month, since I participated in the National Blogging Month program. It was fun but I really learned to appreciate columnists who have to churn out good words everyday no matter what. I felt like while some of my words were not so bad others, well, really sucked. But I also learned not to care so much because my goal was to write everyday, no matter what, and sucky words were part of the "no matter what."
But the break's over and I'm back to my own goal of writing, if not every single day, most of 'em.
So with that in mind, I started thinkin' about what was on my mind I should write about today. How soon our disciple leaves us, even after just a weekend off! Because my brain just couldn't focus on anything!
Should I write about Christmas? But I didn't get much decorating or shopping done, so all I could write about was me waking up worrying (me and half the population) that I wouldn't get everything done on time. I've got three weeks, so I'll hold off on that post, I might need it in two weeks.
Should I write about my busy weekend? Well, who didn't have a busy weekend? (I'm sure someone didn't but I just can't relate.) Who really wants to read about babysitting, grocery shopping, a trip to Target, some bad weather, the Colts winning, or Ohio State making it to the national championship game (thank you, Missouri and W. Virginia!)? Whoops, you just did, sorry!
Should I write about that bad weather? Now there was a real possibility. Because it got bad fast -- snow to freezing rain that made all the roads skating rinks -- and I had to drive in it with a van full of kids. But the stupid irony -- as bad it was Saturday night -- by the next morning, the temperature had risen, all the ice was gone, and when I went out to get the Sunday paper, it felt like spring. I want to say, that's just not right, but it's just the Midwest.
Well, I've done it. Written about everything and nothing.
How about you? What's you spend you're weekend doin'?
But the break's over and I'm back to my own goal of writing, if not every single day, most of 'em.
So with that in mind, I started thinkin' about what was on my mind I should write about today. How soon our disciple leaves us, even after just a weekend off! Because my brain just couldn't focus on anything!
Should I write about Christmas? But I didn't get much decorating or shopping done, so all I could write about was me waking up worrying (me and half the population) that I wouldn't get everything done on time. I've got three weeks, so I'll hold off on that post, I might need it in two weeks.
Should I write about my busy weekend? Well, who didn't have a busy weekend? (I'm sure someone didn't but I just can't relate.) Who really wants to read about babysitting, grocery shopping, a trip to Target, some bad weather, the Colts winning, or Ohio State making it to the national championship game (thank you, Missouri and W. Virginia!)? Whoops, you just did, sorry!
Should I write about that bad weather? Now there was a real possibility. Because it got bad fast -- snow to freezing rain that made all the roads skating rinks -- and I had to drive in it with a van full of kids. But the stupid irony -- as bad it was Saturday night -- by the next morning, the temperature had risen, all the ice was gone, and when I went out to get the Sunday paper, it felt like spring. I want to say, that's just not right, but it's just the Midwest.
Well, I've done it. Written about everything and nothing.
How about you? What's you spend you're weekend doin'?
Shopping poll results
The results of our shopping poll are in! It's unanimous: Everyone has STARTED shopping, but no one is finished ... much less wrapped. Take the new poll: what's your tree status?
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