The Swift Passing of 8 Years

Georgina.

We all know you as Gigi.

Today is your 8th birthday.

I have your heart-shaped cake in the oven and my mind is filled with YOU.

It's a good thing that your baby pictures aren't on this computer

or I'd never been able to choose.  

In this Grandma's eyes you will always be that wide-eyed baby girl

lying, just born, in the nursery.

(Sorry, my girl, but it's true.)

*******************************************

You are the one who introduced me to Grandma-hood.

It's a marvelous place to dwell.

Much like motherhood,

but better.  Much better.

During these 8 fleeting years

you, our Valentine girl, have reminded me of some important things in life:

Birthdays are the BEST days of the year.

(We need not focus on the numbers of the candles,

but rather the sweetness of the frosting.)

A bubble bath can soak away any problems.

Someday you will fit into my hat and jewelry.

I must always be on my best behavior

since I am one of the adults you model.

If we surround ourselves with people who love and support us, we can overcome all our fears.

A little drama goes a long way

and adds color to a dull day.

(And hospital sox can serve as ribbons to decorate a bouquet

and Barbie shoes can tap dance on ceramic tile...)

Baking with a friend makes the cookies even sweeter.

Focusing on the beauty of the Christmas ornaments is far lovelier than fretting about the details of the gift lists or menus.

Our world outdoors is ALWAYS waiting for us 
and is filled with wonders!

Grandfathers are patient teachers and...

seeing a complicated project through will bring exciting and worthwhile results!

In other words, don't give up!

Some of our best lifelong friends love us

without even a word.

Gigi, I have watched you grow.

There have been changes, of course,

but your love of reading remains a constant.

And wearing swim goggles inside is just YOU!!!

You're getting a little 8-year-old spunk

as you discover who you are.

Please, please don't rush out of your childhood.

Each day is so precious.

You are looking at this huge expanse of world

out there.  You are one BIG possibility,

filled with abilities and potential.

You are WONDERFUL!!

HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!!!!

SURPRISED!!! (yet again...)

I am such a slow learner.

I still expect late January and early February to be winter.

All my years living in the "North Country" of northeast New York State

left a permanent impression of what to expect weatherwise--

according to northern seasons, that is.

So, when I opened the windows here in Texas on Feb 1,

a warm spring breeze blew in to greet me.

And invite me to wander around the yard a bit,

soaking up the sunshine and mild temperatures .

On this meandering walk, let me share what I saw:

a delicate purple crocus,

and creamy yellow ones,

sunny and bright daffodil crying out "Springtime!",

and the promise of Easter lilies everywhere.

A few bottle brush flowers are blooming.

Little butterflies--yellow, white, blue ones--flitted on the blossoms.

This white one was hardly larger than a postage stamp.

It has a bright orange dot just under its eye.

Lovely.  Nature is so diverse.

Back a month ago (yes, the first week of January), 

a flock of my special friends passed through.

At least 25 bluebirds danced around in our trees,

chirping and flying from branch to branch.

One brave little one sat on the wind chime right outside of our

bedroom window.  I reminded him of the old bird houses we had left in

AuSable Chasm in case he was heading that far north.

I wished him well on his journey and told him to

carry this warmth and sunshine on his tail feathers.

Everywhere I looked--down at my feet, up in the trees, 

and in the shrubs--new life is thriving.

The gentle does who share our backyard have subtle swellings

to their sides and I am thankful that wee, spotted fawns will be joining us

come May or June.

I am aware that, even as I sit here on my porch listening to bird song,

the northeast is in the midst of a huge nor'easter snowstorm.

It IS February, after all and that is a natural occurrence.

In New York, that is.  

As much as I long for those mountains and trees in autumn,

I must admit that a February filled with birds, warm breezes, blossoms

and butterflies is a lovely thing to enjoy.

O Little Town of Bethlehem

Holiday season has passed but left some great memories in its wake.

Our church's Bethlehem Village was terrific.

Main Street off the town square had gates to enter into Bethlehem and all those who ventured in stepped back in time over 2,000 years.

Once inside the ancient city, visitors interacted:

The bakery offered fresh home made breads,

pottery shop created Roman coins,

natural vegetables dyed linens,

wooden toys were hand carved,

perfume made by grinding flowers,

nuts and berries given out to all the weary travelers

who came into Bethlehem for the census.

Natural dyen toys were hand 

I was part of the Messianic dancers who spun in our circle to the tune of praise music to our God.  Our tambourines drew the attention of many children.

During brief breaks for the dancing segments, we visited the other tents or talked among the visitors.  We heard tell of a baby due to be born in a barn nearby.

Roman soldiers fiercely wandered around the crowded marketplace,

reminding the Hebrews that they were an occupied country

and under Roman rule. 

(This particular soldier was not very mean to the smiling lady at his side, however...)

The temple with the high priests offered solace and prayers, away from the politics of the day.
Some of the priests were our special friends.

We blended centuries and joined Georgetown's visitors

to view the tender scene at the stable where baby Jesus was in his mother's arms.

We shared pats with a gentle lamb and donkey from that same barn.

She was a peaceful donkey amongst the crowded streets of Bethlehem.  I could easily imagine that she was the one who carried poor, weary Mary all the way to Bethlehem from Nazareth, so large with child.

(What a difficult journey on rough roads for that young mother.)

It was truly a step away from the 21st century's idea of Christmas--

sheep bleating rather than Santa's ho-ho-ho's,

Jewish music rather than Christmas carols,

and clothing we don't recognize today.

A reminder to the thousands who walked through our gates

of what Christmas is all about.

And truly a joy to be part of this message.

Can't Deny the Gene Pool

We have all laughed at Abigail's unique and consistent "smile".

No matter what she is doing, 

when the camera comes out she twists her face into this cockeyed,

one-eyed winking grimace.

I call it her pirate smile---ARRRRRRRR!

I keep hoping she'll outgrow it.

I don't find it particularly attractive, by the way. 

But don't tell HER that!

Today, as I was sorting through mountains of old photos,

I discovered this one.  

Here is Abigail's mother many years ago on a chilly, leafless Easter morning.

She is just a few months younger than Abigail is now.

And--just look at this SMILE!!!!!

See any resemblance?????? 

And then, to prove the strength of genetics, 

I caught sight of a touch of the pirate in baby Ethan.

Try as we might to deny them, our genes are mighty powerful, aren't they?

For the record, I can't even wink with my right eye, never mind make the pirate face...

guess the genes are from the OTHER side of the family!  ;-)

Merry Christmas and Happy New Year!!

Merry Christmas and Happy New Year!

What's that, you say--

that I am several days late in my heartfelt wishes?

True about the lateness, but most sincere in my sentiments.

It's just that this holiday season was so overfilled with joyous times

that I couldn't keep up with blogging.

I tend to think that many of you have already stripped the house of all the little candles, trimmings and ribbons that help to make the season festive.

In my true fashion, all still remain in place here in our home.

That sweet spirit of Christmas lingers though the days flew by at record speed.

We've had a number of holidays with empty places at the table,

but not this year! :-) 

This year  4 generations gathered around the table, 

even loved ones from Washington and New Jersey.

New York style conversations spouted loudly with interruptions and everyone talking at the same time--invigorating to me, boggling to our puzzled in-laws.

Distant family were included via the computer and phone, still remarkable.

Days have been filled with baking then eating, wrapping then opening,

trips to Austin to join family and then more trips to the airport,

picking up (YAY!) and then dropping off (BOO!)

A lot of coming and going, sharing and loving.

Concerts, church services, gym workouts, sightseeing, card games, walks, music, movies...

(Speaking of movies, how could I be the only one weeping at Les Mis???  Now, really!).

 Yesterday the last of our our-of-towners was taken to the airport.  (Tissues, please...)

Today the house is empty.  EVER. SO. QUIET.

Bed linens lather in the washer and I am free to ponder.

Our little grand-dog is still with us while her family enjoys a vacation.

I think she, too, is wondering about the changes in the house.

********************

I have a little spiral notebook on my shelf.

When I read something that especially speaks to my heart or mind,

I write it down on those pages.  I wish I had thought of the words first,

but since my creativity is limited, I benefit from keeping inspirational words in this little book. 

 I may just share some of them with you sometime.

I'll end today with this quote from Charles M. Schulz of "Peanuts" fame:

"Why can't we get all the people together in the world that we really like and then just stay together?  I guess that wouldn't work.  Someone would leave.  Someone always leaves.  Then we would have to say good-bye.  I hate good-byes.  I know what I need.  I need more hellos."

Hello, 2013!

Cyber Cousins

Something unexpected and wonderful happened spontaneously tonight.

Gigi read a Christmas story book aloud.

It is a book that is about 35 years old that her Daddy

listened to when he was very small.

It's a scratch 'n sniff book that has been pretty much worn away from years 

of little fingers scratching on each page.

There is a faint aroma of pine, orange and peppermint

that still lingers a bit on several of the pages.  

Just barely.

But that's not the amazing thing.

As Gigi read the story, her loving Aunt Hillary listened.

We are so thrilled she is visiting from New Jersey.

But someone else listened to the treasured old book...

Little cousin Abigail!

Yes, our sweet 2 year old in Fairbanks, Alaska!

Holding the very same book in her lap,

this little tot listened intently to all Gigi read.

She nodded when asked questions and scratched at the pictures when told to.

Then her little blond head dropped down off the screen
 as she obediently sniffed at each picture, 
after which she remarked, "Ahhh!" to each one.

(I suspect she had a newer book that REALLY had the sweet smells 
of Christmas on its pages.)

 I sat in amazement watching these two 

dear little cousins interact as natural as could be.

Abigail, who just turned 2, sat still for 3 books.

Gigi, at the tail end of 7, happily read like a champ, patiently holding up the pages to the computer screen to show her young cousin the pictures.

****************

There is a lot of controversy about the internet 
robbing us of personal relationships and face-to-face conversations.
I've even shared such complaints.

But this is one example of just the opposite!

4,000 miles melted into nothing tonight as these 2 little cousins sat on the same bed and enjoyed old story books about Christmas together.

For me, that's about as magical as things can get!

Arrival of Santa's Elves

The elves arrived!

Hurrah!

I'd been waiting.

*******  

They played around for awhile first.

Entertained us with some Christmas carols.

Then put their creative energies into decorating

some rather oversized gingerbread men.

Right, I said "men" because they were too big to be boys.

The one poor guy wasn't baked without a leg, by the way.

It was a recent injury.

After a fashion they finally got dressed

and then to the task at hand.

Decorating the tree.

Wow!  They did a super job!

Of course this effort created some hearty appetites,

so we ate our meal beside the newly decorated tree.

(This was a tradition we did years gone by with our own children.)

For some reason pizza tastes better on the floor.

Especially by the twinkling lights of the Christmas tree.

These cute little elves agreed.

Jobs done, they packed up to head home to the North Pole,

or Austin, whichever came first.

We were left with a sparkling Christmas tree full of

ornaments, particularly the bottom half...

I do hope they come back soon.

Until the Twelfth of Never...

12-12-12

 Repeating digits in a date.

This will be the last time many of us will

ever have the chance to see such an event.

Hard to imagine, isn't it?

But, the next time this occurs it will be 

January first, thirty-thousand one.

01-01-3001 or

01-01-01.

That is 89 years from now.  

I'm not even sure my grandchildren will be around on that date.

Sobering thought.

Like comets and solar eclipses

these are rare occurrences.

Like blue moons,

 kindred spirit friendship,

unconditional love,

perfect contentment,

and sweet dogs like Shoeless Joe.

We buried our friend yesterday.

He was not merely a rare occurrence,

he was one-of-a-kind.

The very best kind.

More about this beautiful soul another day,

my heart is too heavy to say much at this time.

Take a moment to think about the 

rare occurrences in your life today.

12-12-12 is almost over.

But each of us have the ability to make something

special and rare every day.

Sow random acts of kindness and love

generously

without asking anything in return.

What you do this day may just be a rare occurrence to someone else that could impact a life.

You just never know.

Like that Johnny Mathis song sings,

"Until the twelfth of never...

and that's a long, long time."

Time to Tune up the Sleigh

I know I've lamented that the flowers still blooming outside my door don't seem to belong  when Christmas is only 15 days away.

However, there is one BIG change in our backyard friends

 that let me know the season is upon us. 

Our deer have turned a darker shade of brown and the bucks show up more often.

During the warmer months we mostly see the Mamas and spotted babies.

But those little spotted babies are now the color of their mothers, having lost those darling spots, and all blend in so well to the browned, dry grasses.

God's protective camouflage.

Can you spy the younger deer behind her Mama as they peered at me this morning?

Since November there has been a good deal of romancing going on out in our backyard.

I think it is all aimed at getting these strong bucks the exercise they need to pull that toy laden sleigh around in just about 2 weeks from now.

Cash and Gigi were examining the individual deer this past weekend, trying to decide which ones were Dasher or Dancer or Donner or....well, you know.

It was quite the discussion to overhear.

So tune up that sleigh, Santa.

 Oil the harnesses and polish the jingle bells.

These deer are getting ready for the big night!

No matter the lack of snow or the color of the leaves here in Texas, they know Christmas will soon be here!

Let the Season Begin

No matter the stores have been selling the holiday for weeks now, 

tonight officially began the Christmas season for me.

We attended the meditative and beautiful Candlelight Advent service 

at our local college, Southwestern University.

Advent is the season of anticipation and preparation leading up to Christmas Day.

The glorious mood I brought home afterwards made me turn on my lights and the fireplace, 

despite it being 60 degrees outside.  

 The annual Candlelight Service is held in the same chapel where it began in 1915, 

almost 100 years ago.

This program is based on a advent service developed in 1934 for the Chapel of King's College, Cambridge, England.  Scripture readings intertwine with musical selections.

A Felix Mendelssohn prelude by violins, viola and cello hushed the awaiting crowd.

  In the college choir, the women are on one side facing the men the other, profiles to us in the pews. The chapel's amazing acoustics seem to take these pure and clear young voices and blend and lift them soaring high into the arched rafters then waft them outward toward all of us seated beyond, letting them swirl around each enthralled listener. Only a few of the selections included the organ with its walls of towering pipes; rather most of the songs were accapella,  moving our hearts with crystal clear harmonies. Many of the ancient numbers were in Latin which actually enhanced the sound since the words didn't distract.

At one point I closed my eyes and could easily imagine that the heavenly choir of angels that lit up the night sky above that hillside in Bethlehem might sound just like this.

We ended in darkness save the lights of each person's small candle as the choir members recessed down the aisle, faces bright in the small flickering lights.

We all joined them singing "Hark the Herald Angels".

Oh, that I could send just a taste of this lovely evening to you in this little blog.

Even Scrooge could not remain untouched after such a performance.