The weekend of Thankgiving, the Christmas decorations went up and despite warning that included I have "lots of stuff" and my seeing a lot of boxes for the seasons in the basement, it turns out that there really isn't that much. Plus I like them. Double plus, the dining room has all my menorahs on display. As BC would say, "Balance."
Last Sunday we took The Kid to her riding lesson. While she rode we drank of coffee behind the plexiglass watching her talking about everything and occasionally one of us commenting on her form. After that we went off to procure chocolate making supplies, reviving an old tradition of BC's. I went off to the library to search for a few books on Chanukah to read to The Kid. As I was skimming book after book, a young girl, maybe 10-12 years old came up to me, handed me a book saying it was a favorite of hers. It was one of three I came home with and it was the first one I read to her, all of cuddled up in her bed.
Monday The Kid was sick, staying home from school, poor thing. In the evening she felt a bit better so we did some chocolate making in the kitchen. Molded chocolates, chocolate covered raisins, pretzels, and peanuts as well as a handful of dipped apricots. Once again we piled into her bed and read another Chanukah tale. Tuesday she stayed home from school as well but we still had company for dinner, an old friend of BC's who is very sweet and is passionate about her art. Nice. That night she was too sick to do any reading, poor baby. Wednesday she went to her other mother's house for the next five days.
By Friday it seemed like BC might have succumbed to whatever it was that The Kid had, but it was shorted lived, thank goodness. It was the first night of Chanukah and based on BC's response to one of the stories, we moved the largest menorah into the dining room window so it could be seen from the street and lit it for the first time together.
Saturday morning we left fairly early to drive to Middlefield because BC's niece, who is in fifth grade, was playing her first basketball game. Ever! So sweet. Middlefield is a large Amish community, which became clear as we passed a number of horse and buggies that day. I had no idea I would have fun at the game but I did. As some of you may know I am not a big sports person but there I was shouting (okay not really loud, especially compared to BC who could have easily been mistaken as a coach with all her directions to the players, but loud for me) and cheering. It was a bit of nail bitter as they were tied for awhile but ultimately our team won 16-14.
On the way back I noticed a sign talking about alpacas, but I didn't catch where the place was or even what exactly it was. We were about to make a turn when BC caught a sign saying "Alpacas and Gifts 1 mile". Sweetheart that she is we made a little detour and discovered a sweet shop with four very cute, friendly alpacas out front. If only could remember how to get photos off my phone! The four females were in back and much shier but one was this incredible chestnut brown color with the longest lashes ever. Fields of Grace Alpacas is a sweet little shop and the owner Patti Zebrowski was friendly and informative. Those guys were so cute. We bought yarn for someone on my LBGT knit list who just found out she needs to start chemo next week. Plus I bought some of Lincoln's fleece that had been processed and will make something for BC using it. Really cool to have an image of him while I knit with his material.
Last night with a tiny bit of assistance from me BC started baking her holiday cookies. The kitchen smelled delightful with pistachio and orange biscotti wafting through. We invited our friend Deb over for a veggie dinner I whipped up, we hung for a long time talking, nibbling on the broken biscotti, drinking coffee on a chilly early winter night. Tonight she made almond/orange scented pizzelle as well as chocolate ones. We have a long list of people to give/ship cookies and chocolates to so these kitchen activities will continue over the next week and a half.
As I review all this, time with The Kid, taking turns cooking dinner, going to the middle of nowhere to watch a niece do sports, baking for the holidays, planning for a Chanukah gathering on Tuesday I keep looking on from outside myself thinking, "Wow, this looks like a family." Or "Huh, how did I get here (music cue here) where I never thought I'd be." But more often I think "I could get used to all of this."
Showing posts with label christmas. Show all posts
Showing posts with label christmas. Show all posts
Sunday, December 13, 2009
Friday, December 28, 2007
Christmas Past
Exhausted, nervous and excited, I dozed on the first leg of my travels last Thursday from Dayton OH to White Plains, NY. The second leg I stayed awake, pondering any number of things - almost none that I can recall a week later. Except one.
I realized that thirty-three years ago I sat on a plane, possibly on the same date, for holiday travel. Everything was different that time, first off I was still a child. My stepmother and I were heading from New York City to Phoenix, Arizona. Fran, my stepmother had just birthed my siblings (a set of fraternal twins) about six weeks previously and we were taking them to meet Fran's favorite relatives (and some my favorite relatives as well), Aunt Thelma and Uncle Walter.
I have nothing but fond memories of these folks who treated me as family from first meeting. They had been living in upstate New York State, the Albany area maybe, before moving to warmer climes. Walter was still tall though I suspect he had lost a few inches over the decades, and came across as what I now see as a mid-western country folk kind of man. Aunt Thelma was a very proper but warm woman who had iron gray hair that I saw once undone from the braided bun of daily wear. Her hair was stunningly long and still lush. I tried so hard to copy her evening ritual of brushing her hair a hundred strokes after seeing her mane but at age eight I didn't have the follow through that was required for such things. Their upstate house had a lovely fireplace by which Thelma and I did jigsaw puzzles. Perhaps it was during this visit that Thelma gave me this lovely crochet hook set that had a handle and a number of different hooks sizes that one could screw into the handle. Now with what I know of the fiber arts it is more likely it was a tatting set as the hook sizes were quite tiny. Many years later I let go of that set and have regretted it every time I think of it. It would have been the only thing I had from that lovely woman. I remember eating strawberries at their house, and my mother discovering that she apparently was no longer allergic them, much to her delight.
Somewhere in a photo album that is probably still in a box somewhere in my new home is a photo of Fran and I, each holding a baby. As I recall you cannot really see my face because I am looking down at my sister. Well I think it was my sister as she was the smaller of the babies so it would have made sense to give me the lightweight babe to hold through the journey. I don't remember much of either flight except that I think it went well, meaning no screaming infants for the entire trip. There is another photo that I have from that trip, it is of me standing by Thelma and Walter's tree, which I am pretty sure was artificial, looking awkward. I know that had been trying to finish a a woven fabric green jumper to wear during the trip in my school sewing class in time to wear for this trip but I cannot remember if I did, or if it's what I am wearing in that photograph.
It was there that I ate red snapper for the first time and have loved it ever since. It was also there that I first saw Morgan Fairchild in Search for Tomorrow. I believe her character was in prison when I began watching. It may be the only soap on CBS I ever watched. I remember how it seemed so incongruous for it to be Christmas while it was warm, in a place with no snow and things blooming. Of course even with two moms with advanced degrees in English I didn't think of that word to describe what I was feeling back then.
I think I saw Thelma and Walter only one more time, about four or fives years later, in Brooklyn. Somewhere I have a contact sheet of photos I took with a few shots of Walter, but I fear none of Thelma. I know we went to Central Park, played with "the twins", as they were referred as forever - a habit I am trying to break, in the back yard of the house. Again my portfolio of work from those years is in a box somewhere and I have probably ditched the negatives in an attempt to declutter my life. The memories will always be there it's true, but sometimes a physical reminder is really nice to glance at, especially when it can trigger such warm, happy thoughts.
I hope everyone has had a lovely holiday and created sweet memories to recall randomly in the future.
I realized that thirty-three years ago I sat on a plane, possibly on the same date, for holiday travel. Everything was different that time, first off I was still a child. My stepmother and I were heading from New York City to Phoenix, Arizona. Fran, my stepmother had just birthed my siblings (a set of fraternal twins) about six weeks previously and we were taking them to meet Fran's favorite relatives (and some my favorite relatives as well), Aunt Thelma and Uncle Walter.
I have nothing but fond memories of these folks who treated me as family from first meeting. They had been living in upstate New York State, the Albany area maybe, before moving to warmer climes. Walter was still tall though I suspect he had lost a few inches over the decades, and came across as what I now see as a mid-western country folk kind of man. Aunt Thelma was a very proper but warm woman who had iron gray hair that I saw once undone from the braided bun of daily wear. Her hair was stunningly long and still lush. I tried so hard to copy her evening ritual of brushing her hair a hundred strokes after seeing her mane but at age eight I didn't have the follow through that was required for such things. Their upstate house had a lovely fireplace by which Thelma and I did jigsaw puzzles. Perhaps it was during this visit that Thelma gave me this lovely crochet hook set that had a handle and a number of different hooks sizes that one could screw into the handle. Now with what I know of the fiber arts it is more likely it was a tatting set as the hook sizes were quite tiny. Many years later I let go of that set and have regretted it every time I think of it. It would have been the only thing I had from that lovely woman. I remember eating strawberries at their house, and my mother discovering that she apparently was no longer allergic them, much to her delight.
Somewhere in a photo album that is probably still in a box somewhere in my new home is a photo of Fran and I, each holding a baby. As I recall you cannot really see my face because I am looking down at my sister. Well I think it was my sister as she was the smaller of the babies so it would have made sense to give me the lightweight babe to hold through the journey. I don't remember much of either flight except that I think it went well, meaning no screaming infants for the entire trip. There is another photo that I have from that trip, it is of me standing by Thelma and Walter's tree, which I am pretty sure was artificial, looking awkward. I know that had been trying to finish a a woven fabric green jumper to wear during the trip in my school sewing class in time to wear for this trip but I cannot remember if I did, or if it's what I am wearing in that photograph.
It was there that I ate red snapper for the first time and have loved it ever since. It was also there that I first saw Morgan Fairchild in Search for Tomorrow. I believe her character was in prison when I began watching. It may be the only soap on CBS I ever watched. I remember how it seemed so incongruous for it to be Christmas while it was warm, in a place with no snow and things blooming. Of course even with two moms with advanced degrees in English I didn't think of that word to describe what I was feeling back then.
I think I saw Thelma and Walter only one more time, about four or fives years later, in Brooklyn. Somewhere I have a contact sheet of photos I took with a few shots of Walter, but I fear none of Thelma. I know we went to Central Park, played with "the twins", as they were referred as forever - a habit I am trying to break, in the back yard of the house. Again my portfolio of work from those years is in a box somewhere and I have probably ditched the negatives in an attempt to declutter my life. The memories will always be there it's true, but sometimes a physical reminder is really nice to glance at, especially when it can trigger such warm, happy thoughts.
I hope everyone has had a lovely holiday and created sweet memories to recall randomly in the future.
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