The Business of Life

A few Monday morning observations:  1) Weekends need to be longer than two days.  One cannot possibly "get it all done", no matter how "it" is defined on your list, in two days.  I would happily work ten hour days if I could have a three day weekend.  2) I know it was time, but my living room now looks really empty.  I loved my Christmas tree this year, and kept it up as long as I possibly could, but I reached the limit Saturday afternoon and down came all the ornaments.  I think in large part I was stalling because I knew it was the last time I would see my daughter's precious ornaments on our tree--by next Christmas she will be married with a home of her own and all those sweet memories will be lovingly placed on her tree instead.  That's the way it should be, but still...part of my heart broke a little as I packed them away on Saturday.  

I did, however, learn something interesting on my road trip to Chicago yesterday.  I normally start feeling guilty around the start of the second week in January if my tree is still up, but this weekend a lovely woman I met at a baby shower regaled me with stories of St. Canute, the King of Denmark from 1080-1086, who extended Christmas until January 13.  I am not Danish, or Catholic, but I feel a fondness for St. Canute and extend my warm thanks for giving me a guilt-free reason to leave the tree up until the 13th!  My Celtic ancestors won't object if I become an honorary Dane in order to celebrate Christmas a little longer, right?

When I returned from my trip to Chicago yesterday, my living room looked rather drab and quite empty without the tree's reflection twinkling in my bay window.  As I rearranged the furniture and put the room back to rights, I was thinking about all the memories I've accumulated over the years during the holidays. I decided my gratitude jar needed an entry about how blessed I am to have a life where memories are created and cherished.  I then sat down with my family to watch last night's installment of Downton Abbey, and one of my favorite characters, Mr. Carson, must have been reading my mind!

And my third weekend observation?  That Mr. Carson is right about mornings as well, especially Monday mornings!  As he observed in last night's episode "I find there is something foreign about high spirits at breakfast."  Well put, Mr. Carson.  And with his words ringing in my ears, I'm off to make breakfast and head for work, resting easy in the knowledge that it's okay with Mr. C. if I'm not full of jollity this early in the morning!

Winter Memories




Within the circuit of this plodding life

There enter moments of an azure hue,

Untarnished fair as is the violet

Or anemone, when the spring stew them

By some meandering rivulet, which make

The best philosophy untrue that aims

But to console man for his grievences.

I have remembered when the winter came,

High in my chamber in the frosty nights,

When in the still light of the cheerful moon,

On the every twig and rail and jutting spout,

The icy spears were adding to their length

Against the arrows of the coming sun,

How in the shimmering noon of winter past

Some unrecorded beam slanted across

The upland pastures where the Johnwort grew;

Or heard, amid the verdure of my mind,

The bee's long smothered hum, on the blue flag

Loitering amidst the mead; or busy rill,

Which now through all its course stands still and dumb

Its own memorial, - purling at its play

Along the slopes, and through the meadows next,

Until its youthful sound was hushed at last

In the staid current of the lowland stream;

Or seen the furrows shine but late upturned,

And where the fieldfare followed in the rear,

When all the fields around lay bound and hoar

Beneath a thick integument of snow.

So by God's cheap economy made rich

To go upon my winter's task again.




Henry David Thoreau

I slipped and slid all over the road coming home from work last night, and was grateful when I was finally home safe and sound.  After hanging up my coat and giving my dog a hug (she's really hurt if she isn't properly greeted as soon as I step in the door!) I headed for the kitchen table.  Not for dinner but to add a small slip of paper to the mason jar on the table.  Do you remember the "gratitude jar" I wrote about a couple of weeks ago?  Well, it's filling up nicely, one day at a time, with all the little things I'm so very grateful for, including safe passage home at the end of a long day.  Some of the notes contain very, very big thank yous for answers to prayers for loved ones, and others are simple memories of something nice that happened during the day, but I'm finding it a meaningful way to remember this year, one special moment at a time and be thankful for this life of mine.

I love the vintage blue jar--it was a garage sale treasure when I was searching for just the right jars to hold gerbera daisies at my son's wedding rehearsal dinner, and I promised the woman selling her mother's collection of antique jars that I would take very, very good care of them.  The ribbon wrapped around the top came from a quilt store in New Hampshire--my purchase was carefully wrapped in this piece of fabric and it brings back good memories of the trip and my excitement of shopping at the store every time I look at it.  And of course the beautiful doily, loving crocheted by my mother, gives the jar a little elegance.  I think it will be nice next New Year's Eve to read the slips and remember so many moments--some special, some mundane, but all infused with gratitude and appreciation for this crazy life of mine.

The words just about sum it up, don't they?  "Perfect"--a description on the jar, but also a pretty nice way of looking at life.  We may have many imperfect moments (and days, and sometimes months!) but we have the gift of life and the ability to love and be loved, and at the end of the day, that's just about perfect, isn't it?

Starfish

This is what life does. It lets you walk up to

the store to buy breakfast and the paper, on a

stiff knee. It lets you choose the way you have

your eggs, your coffee. Then it sits a fisherman

down beside you at the counter who says, Last night

the channel was full of starfish. And you wonder,

is this a message, finally, or just another day?

Life lets you take the dog for a walk down to the

pond, where whole generations of biological

processes are boiling beneath the mud. Reeds

speak to you of the natural world: they whisper,

they sing. And herons pass by. Are you old

enough to appreciate the moment? Too old?

There is movement beneath the water, but it

may be nothing. There may be nothing going on.

And then life suggests that you remember the

years you ran around, the years you developed

a shocking lifestyle, advocated careless abandon,

owned a chilly heart. Upon reflection, you are

genuinely surprised to find how quiet you have

become. And then life lets you go home to think

about all this. Which you do, for quite a long time.

Later, you wake up beside your old love, the one

who never had any conditions, the one who waited

you out. This is life's way of letting you know that

you are lucky. (It won't give you smart or brave,

so you'll have to settle for lucky.) Because you were born at a good time. Because you were able to listen when people spoke to you. Because you

stopped when you should have started again.

So life lets you have a sandwich, and pie for your

late night dessert. (Pie for the dog, as well.) And

then life sends you back to bed, to dreamland,

while outside, the starfish drift through the channel,

with smiles on their starry faces as they head

out to deep water, to the far and boundless sea.

Tranquil fantasy...

Most of the time my blog is a reflection of what is going on in my personal life, about family gatherings and celebrations, holidays, vacation and travel, and occasionally family loss and sorrow. All of the small moments that make up a day--finding a perfect poem, wishing on a falling star, dancing to a favorite song while cooking dinner.  Occasionally I may mention my work life, although I try to keep that to a minimum.  Today’s post is a tad different, coming from a completely different life of mine!  I woke up extra early this morning (as in 4 am), in part because I had a restless night’s sleep and in part because I had no idea what I was going to write about this morning and it was weighing on me.  No creative juices—no flash of inspiration—nada.  I didn’t feel like actually sitting down at my computer so early, so I staggered out to my family room sofa to watch some television, with the intention of starting to write about 5:30 or so.  Which I did, and here is my post:

It was supposed to start snowing during the wee hours of the morning, but when I peeked out the window just now the flakes have yet to begin, so I think I have time to capture a few early morning pictures with my camera.  I’ll just throw on my bathrobe and step outside to see what inspires me…

The first thing I noticed is that the wind had really started whipping the trees around:

 

But fortunately the wind hadn’t put a damper on the baseball game across the street.  I was surprised to see President Bush in attendance, but hey, our neighborhood baseball games can draw quite a crowd, especially as the stadium is across the street from my house. 

Meanwhile, as I was trying to take a good picture of the president, two joggers bumped my arm as they sprinted across my yard and around the side of my house.  I tried to get a picture of them but my shot was a little blurry as the wind was still blowing and I had slipped on the ice next to the grass when they ran by me.

 

I hurried to the backyard to see where they were going and peered down the alley to the left of my house, which I have always thought looked just like the alleyways in Amsterdam.  Not that I really know what Amsterdam alleys look like, since I’ve never been to that country.

After peeking down the alley (no joggers in sight) I rounded the corner to my backyard, and was struck by the beautiful sunrise just occurring over the lake that surrounds my backyard.  It was so beautiful and calm, and after taking a picture of the rising sun I hurried inside to write this post.  I found the perfect poem to accompany it, and it felt so good to finally have the post written and published, all before I needed to get ready for work!

 

My Sunrise

The chirp of birds in the early morning
Bless my smiles with their innocent calling
I head outside with my blanket wrapped around
And lay there listening to this memorable sound.

Inspiring orange light of dawn, infatuating
With all colours the sun rise is portraying
Its cheerful glow fills my heart with serenity
And takes me to a tranquil fantasy.

Amaranth red shimmers of vitality
Creating the most curing reality
Shines transparently through my soul
And takes me to a place so beautiful.

Hues emphasise pure yellow rays of hope
That warms my aura lost in the clouds reflective pink coat
This morning ambience has risen bright
Like heaven shone down with its piercing light.

There will be no melancholy, only a feeling so gay
Because my sun, you've just started my day.

Theo Williams

 

So you can imagine my surprise, after happily publishing my post and congratulating myself on work accomplished, when I opened my eyes and discovered I was still on the sofa in the family room, with no sunrise over the lake, no picturesque alleys and most assuredly no presidential ballgames across the street!  But even if I slept through my window of opportunity to write a "real" blog post this morning my imagination came through for me and saved the day.  As long as you don't mind stepping into my obviously over-active dream world!

 

Have a wonderful Tuesday and I'll be back tomorrow (hopefully awake and not dreaming....)

 

Downton Abbey musings...

Downloadable Downton Abbey door hanger

Oh my--all the drama and heartache and unexpected violence on Downton Abbey last night left me rather sad and gave me troubled dreams!  I finally got up early and discovered many of my facebook friends felt the same way. My daughter's fiance' sent me a "crafty" way to bring a little DA into my "real life"--the one that stretches between 9 pm Sunday night and the following Sunday at 8 pm.  My son even offered to see if he could find the British episodes online and download them so we could quickly find out what happens to poor Anna, scheming Thomas and "my-married-boyfriend-is-turning-German-for-me" Edith, but we quickly shut down that idea.  Half the fun is the anticipation--the buzz around the water cooler and the dining room table and on facebook as to what the next turn of events will be is a huge part of the fun.

DA Quote napkins from DesignMom.com

Hmmm...perhaps next Saturday I should whip up a few napkins for our Sunday evening tea?  You have to admit, Lady Violet's pithy zingers would look great on linen napkins and add a fillip of elegance to my tea tray.

I can even include my whole family in some DA fun!  For my daughter who loves Clue with a passion that probably even exceeds my DA obsession, we could play this game before Sunday's next installment:

and spend a pleasant hour or two discussing likely suspects and murder weapons.  I vote for O'Brien and the soap...

Downton Abbey Clue Game

I could even get my sons involved (fat chance!) by offering them the opportunity to build Highclere Castle. Goodness knows I have enough Legos stored away in bins to create the Castle AND the village!

But for now, the sun is coming up and work is calling, so I'll need to set aside my English swooning and fretting over Downton's unforgettable characters and head back into the "real world."  I'll leave you with a poem that I love, Invictus, by British poet W.E. Henley.  I have it hanging on my wall at work, and I have a sneaking suspicion that it would be one of Lady Violet's favorite poems as well:

Out of the night that covers me,

Black as the Pit from pole to pole,

I thank whatever gods may be

For my unconquerable soul.

In the fell clutch of circumstance

I have not winced nor cried aloud.

Under the bludgeonings of chance

My head is bloody, but unbowed.

Beyond this place of wrath and tears

Looms but the Horror of the shade,

And yet the menace of the years

Finds, and shall find, me unafraid.

It matters not how strait the gate,

How charged with punishments the scroll,

I am the master of my fate:

I am the captain of my soul.

Ah, welcome back Downton Abbey!  Hello, Mrs. Hughes and Mr. Carson.  Greetings, Mr. Bates and Anna.  A friendly wave to Mrs. Patmore and Daisy.  A nod to grieving Mary and Branson, and a hug to little Sybil and George.  How nice to see you again, Lady Violet--glad to know your acerbic wit survived the long hiatus.  And Cora...really?  You have to be the easiest mark in the world...how can you not see through first O'Brien and now Thomas?  They are VILLAINS!  They are Crabby Appletons...rotten to the core!

Thank you all for gracing my home again last night.  We celebrated your return in style--Earl Grey hot chocolate, Lady Grey hot tea, Earl Grey cream parfaits and an English cake roll with tea infused whipped cream.  With a two hour premier we had plenty of time to stuff ourselves (politely, in proper English fashion, of course!).  

I used my "new" vintage tea cups that reminded me of the Downton Abbey tea cups currently for sale. Sorry for the blurry image, I just couldn't get a good picture of it in spite of many attempts!  

And we followed our thoroughly British repast with sherry from my husband's lovely new decanter:

for which we used my new DA coasters (thank you to my daughter for such a sweet Christmas gift--you know me oh so well!)

And after a lovely, lovely, lovely Sunday evening, I get to stay home all day today because of the cold! Cross stitch...here I come!

Enjoy your Monday, and wherever you are, stay warm!

This little light of mine....

When I was a little girl we sang a song in Sunday School that went "this little light of mine, I'm gonna let it shine, this little light of mine, I'm gonna let it shine, let it shine, let it shine."  It had hand gestures and a bouncy melody and we all loved to sing it.

I was thinking about those lyrics this morning..."hide it under a bushel...no!...I'm gonna let it shine" and how easy it is to hide or even lose our light on our daily path.  Work, obligations, duties, worries, and the stress of daily life can all put our little lights under a bushel where it's hard to see the flicker.  I must daily remember to walk in the light, if for no other reason than to light the path for someone whose road is darker than mine.

When we give of ourselves, we help to spread the light.  I wanted to share with you today a gift my son made for Christmas that not only spreads the light but was one of the most thoughtful gifts I've ever seen. His girlfriend has a college degree in linguistics, and her senior thesis explored the relationships between the spoken word, poetry and music.  My son found copies of some of the books that were quoted in her thesis, and used them to create a very special  gift for her.

Her little light is going to shine brightly on her bedside table each night!

My hope for today is that we all find a way to spread the light--through a kind deed, a smile to someone who looks sad, sharing a laugh with a friend, or extending the hand of kindness.  Have a wonderful Friday!

For my family, part of the holiday fun is celebrating the traditions we have built over the years, whether it is assembling our Dickens village:

or displaying my daughter's collection of holiday water globes (and now that I think of it, I guess this was the last year for her display as she will be married with her own home next Christmas!):

or making our special Wassail punch for our Christmas movies night:

or even knowing that the first "person" to open her Christmas stocking will be Willow:

But another part of the fun comes from building new traditions as well, as we welcome others into our family circle.  This New Year's we celebrated the "old" tradition of dining on cheesy grits and rice calas cakes, New Orleans' style:

But we also celebrated the "new" by adding black eyed peas, collard greens and cornbread to our dinner menu, which is a cherished family tradition of my son's girlfriend. In the South the collard greens represent dollar bills, the peas coins and the cornbread gold, and having them all together promises a new year of prosperity.

That's the nice thing about traditions--we create them, so we can change them as we wish.  It's fun to mix things up a bit.  And it was a real surprise to discover that my whole family LOVED the collard greens!  And that's my hope for this new year--no resolutions, just a deep desire to be open to change and embrace what comes with an open mind and a loving spirit.

Happy New Year to all of you, and may we all "ring in the true" in 2014!