A little post Christmas glow...

Yesterday, quite unplanned as I had much else to do, I settled in to watch many, many episodes of HGTV and Food Network.  I mean, it was a lazy couple of days, which is sometimes okay after a busy holiday, but I really should have been back at it.  We had a great Christmas season and while it isn’t over, but is winding down, I have so much to look forward to in 2015! I’m excited. 

My newest grandchild, who had a January 1 due date, arrived December 8 so was a special gift under the tree this year and she is a beauty.  Sweet, smells divine, and just all around pleasure.  Her older brother is active, often ornery, and also as precious and sweet as she…just in a different way.  We enjoyed much time with these two this month and can’t wait until we see them, oh yeah, and their parents, again. 

My other two grandchildren are just a wee bit older and so dog gone funny, fun, smart, witty.  It’s a riot around them and I am constantly amazed by their brains.  Gosh, how fast kids learn!  The oldest, who just turned 6, has discovered card games, sewing, reading and jokes.  She keeps us on our toes, and we love being there.    

Because we have been able to spend a fair amount of time with these two families, and also my son and his beautiful bride, it has increased discussion, both for and against, our remodeling.  Maybe one of the reasons I hunkered down on the couch and watched remodeling show after remodeling show, house hunters, tiny house hunters, tiny house living, brothers, husband and wife…show after show.  Hubs has been busy working in the basement, converting some space and sprucing up some other as he got it in his head six months or so ago that we needed to put bunk beds down there.  I don’t think he is wrong, mind you, I just wish I had been on the same trajectory and schedule, and gee, discussion may have been appropriate.  He has made MANY of the decisions on this project by himself and I feel almost left out.  I don’t particularly like that feeling, quite honestly, and it has led to a couple of ouchy moments. 

I have ouchy moments and when I do, they don’t go unnoticed.  Or, if they do, they just get ouchier.  Now, remember, I am the gal that is seeking joy, spreading joy, spewing joy as one of my lifestyle choices/goals so the ouchiness comes as a struggle for me.  I don’t want to do it but next thing I know something sneaks out…something snarky. Maybe I should say, or admit, the ouchiness becomes a struggle for me to shake off or to rein in.  Once unleashed, it can get pretty outta hand.   

Luckily, the basement is the basement.  Stairs are good for moving ouchiness to another room, and level, of the house.  By the time hubs is feeling it might be safe enough to climb the stairs and breeze through the kitchen, I have allowed the ouchiness to have its moment and am under some recognizably better disposition.  But, boy, I enjoy stomping up those stairs, muttering not quite under my breath.  I could slam the door but if I shut it, he can’t hear what else I might mutter so I always leave it open.   

Fact is, he has done a great job and while I agree with most of the decisions he has made and marvel at some I see as totally unnecessary or silly, he is the one investing all the time. I am totally engaged in the remodeling we are, or are not, planning on the rest of the house so I am good with his taking over in the basement.  We have a couple of long winter months ahead of really reaching agreement with our next project, so it is best if he gets this out of his system as there won’t be stairs to separate us during this next phase!

Muse and amuse!

My blog post is late this week as I have been slightly preoccupied with a new granddaughter so I am giving you a few musings…in no particular order:

A daughter giving birth is one of life’s most exhilarating and terrifying experiences.

There is nothing softer than a newborn’s cheeks. 

I love Christmas cookies and the people who bake them. 

Nothing is cuter than a five or six year old without their front teeth.

It has taken quite a few taste tests but I prefer my oatmeal raisin cookies without chocolate chips.

I quite like chocolate chip cookies.

I am fearful of the winter’s snow for 2014/2015 but I am also not going to let it stop me.

I need a new warm coat so I can’t be stopped.

And boots.

I have vowed to not wear “mom jeans”.  I wear denim but not like that.

I have bought a new pair of “mom jeans”.  I struggled against it but couldn’t find anything else in black rinse. 

It's December 19th and I don't have my Santas out as planned. 

I am not getting my Santas out as planned.

My plans for building a tree have changed but, I am letting go.

I struggle with letting go.

 

From eagles to bluebirds, I've earned my wings!

Last week while walking my little dog around the yard,  I have to admit to being a little delighted upon discovering a tree had fallen during the night winds.  This old cherry tree, that sometimes produced fruit but often did not, gave it up and fell gently over.

Why was I delighted? You know it! I will be cutting a large branch off this tree and shoving it in a bucket for Christmas lights.  Happy.  I am happy about this old tree falling right on over when I needed it. I am sad about losing the old tree, don't get me wrong.

I was also delighted last week, while the dog was in the yard and I was fooling around closer to the house, to see two, yes two, bald eagles diving and fishing right out in front of the house, in plain view, at a relatively reasonable hour so that I could see it, soaring, dipping and circling.  And, some screeching of that highly identifiable eagle screech. No missing that call.

I was so excited, I ran in the house, tried to call my sister-in-law when I remembered her cell phone was on the front porch in a crock pot (don't ask, just accept).   Tried to call the house and the call would not complete.  Are you kidding?  Wanted to run over but drapes were drawn, which typically means she is not up or ready for company.  Aw, shoot, she missed it.

Later in the day, I walked over to tell her what she missed.  I was really excited when, standing in the kitchen, I looked out the window and the freaking eagle was just outside, high on a branch but fully visible.  We were like school girls who saw the latest TV star or something.  Giddiness.

You know, when I saw the eagles, and I couldn't get my sister-in-law on the phone, I wanted to yell "Does anyone see these eagles?" and "Am I the only one seeing these eagles!?".  Years ago, I claimed to see a turkey in the yard and I took no small amount of grief for announcing to my in-laws, who thought of me as a city girl, that there had been said turkey in the yard.  It was a joke for a couple years, until, lo, one of them saw a turkey in the yard.   Since that turkey sighting, and especially after claiming I saw it fly, (yes, WKRP, they do fly a little) I have earned a little bird cred.

As confident as I am when celebrating the sighting of something that is usually "not this far north" or "doesn't come into areas with this many trees" or whatever I have heard over the years, and proving otherwise, I try not to cartwheel when I see something like circling eagles dive bombing the lake in front of my patch of paradise.   I try to keep it together as there is a chance, that even with my bird cred, I am mistaken.

But, golly, did you SEE those eagles?

"Kites rise highest against the wind, not with it"

Late September or early October of 2013 I wrote a blog post about my great nephew, Noah.  Of his strength, of his becoming a leader, a rock for his friends as they said goodbye to a dear friend, a force in his own right, who lost his life through a tragic, sudden and shocking event.   I wrote of Noah’s parents who opened their home to allow a place for kids to fall softly and safely, together.  Some of whom knew Jake well, some only knowing their friends were in pain, so they were in pain.  It did not matter if they knew Jake at all, this was a community of kids, who were in it for each other and they hurt.  They needed a leader, and they found one in Noah, as he opened his heart and his parents opened their home, for kids to heal. 

To everything there is a season and the days went on, as days do, and time healed, as time does.  School went on, the holidays came, spring break, summer.  Kids were back in school and life was doing what life does. 

Noah felt such deep pain and he struggled and worked his way through it. He went to basketball games and dances, laughed on the beach.  We, who love him so, saw it in his face, the pain and the loss which remained.  While he smiled, he grieved.  When he laughed, he heard the echo of the boy who was always at his side.  He spoke of Jake, he presented Jake, he represented Jake. 

Shortly after Jake’s passing, I wrote of my nephew.  It’s over a year and he has just come off an amazing football season, one in which he let no one forget his best friend, who was not there to play but started and finished each game with his team ~ forever on the field.  The miracle season is over and a new chapter begins for these men of the game.  Noah will start a new sport and a new semester.  He’s just turned 18 and he has massive arms. 

However, the Noah I watch today is different than the young leader of a year ago.  It would have been easy, and maybe even expected, for a 17-year old to give up the cause.  To want to go back to the way it was so fiercely ~ of being a guy, a jock, a teenager ~ that you just do.  But, this young man, this nephew, used his grief, engaged his grief, to become more than what he knew he had the ability to be.  Oh, he wanted to go back, no doubt, more than anything, but, instead he battled this past year and it is now added to his history. This year is woven into his strong foundation of love, of family, friendship and faith ~  not a bad start to 18, Noah.  Happiest of birthdays, dear boy ~ happiest of days.